Time and Again
by Jess Pallas
Summary: Moya is invaded by a race with a grudge against Pilot's species.
1. Part one

Time and Again - Part One

Time and Again - Part One.

By Jess Pallas.

Disclaimer;I don't own Farscape or any of its characters. Please don't sue me!

Feedback; Go on then! E-mail me at [jesspallas@hotmail.com][1]

Archiving; If you like it, take it. But please, let me know first.

Rating: Not sure what the standard is but I'd guess at PG and General. No naughtiness (sorry shippers) but there are a few fights.

Spoilers; Nothing major. References to TWWW, EFG, HOTR and DMS.

Summary: Moya is invaded by a race with a grudge against Pilot's species.

The warning beacon hung against a backdrop of stars, it's red light blinking like a watchful eye that glared at those standing in command. The echo of the message, so recently played seemed to hang like a pall over them all. Now what would they do?

"It was just a threat," Chiana muttered unconvincingly. "Maybe they won't go through with it."

"And maybe they will." Aeryn's voice was cold. "Do you want to take that risk?"

John stepped forward, his features reflecting the concern felt by all at this unpleasant development.

"None of us want to risk it Aeryn," he said wearily, "But what other choice have we got? The only commerce planet within lightcycles of here is sitting on the other side of that beacon. We're running low on food. We'll be down to chewing on each other soon and I for one don't want to find out if Sparky tastes as bad as he smells!"

"Much as I hate to agree with Crichton, he is correct," Rygel imposed loftily, choosing to ignore John's remark as he glided forward on his thronesled. "We need to reach that planet. We're down to our last haunches of Keva!"

"And who's fault is that?" D'Argo muttered under his breath. Rygel shot him a dirty look but didn't rise to the bait.

"I'm sure the Rani won't chose to attack us," he continued, "And even if they do…." He paused. "It isn't as though they threatened all of us…"

Aeryn was across the Command in microts, fire burning in her eyes. Only D'Argo's reflex grab kept her from ripping Rygel apart on the spot.

"You be so callous as to sacrifice his life for food after all he's done for us? You obnoxious little slug!"

John quickly placed himself between the peacekeeper and the object of her wrath.

"Easy, Aeryn," he said calmingly. "Let's not fight amongst ourselves, huh? That ain't gonna solve the problem."

Reluctantly Aeryn stepped back. D'Argo released her waist warily but she made no further lunges, settling for an icy glare at Rygel that could have felled armies. The Hynerian almost instinctively shrunk back.

John was gazing pensively out of the front portal at the beacon, it's lazy spin belying it's threatening nature. 

"This isn't our call," he said abruptly. "We aren't the ones facing death threats here and we've no right to go making the decisions."

He turned to the clamshell. "Pilot?"

Even through the hologram, the navigator looked pale. The unexpected brutality of the message had shaken him badly.

"I have heard of the Rani," he confessed. "Few amongst my species haven't. Their hatred of us is legendary."

"What makes the Rani despise your people enough to threaten slow death to any they catch?" Zhaan was watching the clamshell with concern.

Pilot sighed. "I don't know exactly. I had always believed the Rani a myth until now. But it is said in stories that they worship leviathans as sky gods but consider us parasites who dominate and imprison them. It is believed they desire to free their gods from our invasion."

"Don't they realise the leviathans need you guys?" John asked curiously.

"I doubt it. I imagine if my kind tried to tell them, they would simply be ignored."

"Like the Draks," John muttered under his breath. "Nobody listens to the parasite."

He caught the indignant look on Pilot's face and raised his hands apologetically. "I don't mean you _are _a parasite, Pilot! I was just….Forget it! Look, we still have a decision to make here. Do we go on or not? It's up to you."

"Why should he be the one to decide?" Rygel declared indignantly. "It's not as though he's going to starve to death! And he won't have to deal with Zhaan in bud!"

"But he is the one who could die!" Aeryn snapped. "Shut up, Rygel!"

Pilot sighed again. "I am afraid," he admitted. "But I cannot risk you all for the sake of something that may not even happen. We will continue."

John smiled. "Thanks Pilot. Keep the scanner out wide, huh? I'd like plenty of warning if the Rani decide to drop by."

"You're not the only one," Pilot muttered nervously. The imager shimmered and he was gone. The others exchanged glances as Moya glided slowly passed the beacon and entered Rani patrolled space. John stared out at the innocent looking stars.

"Once more into the breech, dear friends," he murmured.

Meeting only blank looks, he sighed and turned his attention to the controls.

********************

The next few arns passed without incident. The crew maintained a constant watch in command, backing up Pilot with the reassurance of their presence. They could do little to assist the navigator but having someone on constant call seemed to calm his nerves somewhat. But still, he remained obviously ill at ease, saying little, preferring to concentrate on his work. Aeryn had observed him carefully throughout her watch and gradually she became convinced that there was something he wasn't telling them. There was nothing specifically different about his behaviour – a slight edge to his voice and expression that wouldn't have even been noticeable to someone who knew him less well , but to her implied that he was hiding something. She couldn't fathom why or what it might be but it concerned her for what ever it was, was clearly adding to his discomfort. So when Chiana arrived to relieve her, she chose to ignore her weariness and made her way down to the Den.

Pilot glanced up nervously as she entered. Aeryn noticed that the DRDs that frequented the chamber had almost doubled in number and were all touting an impressive array of weaponry. Almost reluctantly, they rolled aside in a ripple of yellow and allowed her to pass unhindered. She crossed the walkway without comment and pulled herself up onto the bright lights of Pilot's consoles, settling herself in beside her friend. Pilot watched in silence, a query in his eyes.

"Officer Sun," he acknowledged. "Is something the matter?"

"I was about to ask you the same question," Aeryn watched his face carefully, searching for answers. "Pilot, you've not been yourself ever since we found that warning beacon. I know you must be afraid, but I think I know you well enough to see that's not all that's wrong. There's more to these Rani than you've told us, isn't there?"

For a moment, she thought he was going to deny it. But then his head bowed and he looked away, his expression distressed. Aeryn waiting patiently, knowing better than to rush him. He would explain in his own good time.

"It's just a story," he ventured at last with a distinct reluctance. "When tales of the Rani are told amongst my people, they are told in fearful tones. They are more myth than truth, stories to frighten the gullible and young amongst my kind – or so I always thought." He paused and took a deep breath. " But if the stories are true, then you should know what is said- what we may be up against. When the Rani attack, there is no warning. They never cause harm to the leviathans but they can be aboard them before they're even seen. It is said they are capable of manipulating the ships themselves, opening doors, shutting down DRDs, overriding a Pilot's control in microts. They come, they kill, they go. No warning, no resistance. They never fail."

Pilot looked up; his eyes were haunted with fear. "If that is true – if they can control Moya and override my commands – then I have no way to defend myself. I am helpless. I will have no option but to sit here in the dark and wait for my death to come."

He was terrified, Aeryn realised. Defenceless as he seemed at times, his ability to manipulate Moya and the DRDs had always given him a measure of protection. Take that away and he had nothing. He couldn't even run.

Impulsively, Aeryn reached forward and took his face in her hands.

"Now you listen to me," she said, her voice low but determined. "You will never be in danger as long as I'm aboard this ship. The Rani can't control me. I promise you Pilot, I won't let you get hurt, by the Rani or anyone else!"

He smiled at her but it was half-hearted at best. "Thank you, Aeryn Sun. I just wish I could believe that was true."

****************************

Chiana was bored. The grey-skinned Nebari ran her fingers lazily across the controls as she gazed with a distinct lack of interest at the starry tableau displayed on the forward portal. This was a magra-farbot waste of time. She had done every scan, checked every readout and had found all of nothing. There were no Rani. There wasn't anything but the commerce planet, almost a solar day's travel ahead. All around them were the stars and the empty void of space, no threat to anyone, let alone Moya. She was beginning to think that the beacon was a hoax or out of date, that the Rani – if they even existed – had long ago left the area. Was there any point in her even being up there? She had better things to do than reassure the nerves of a paranoid pilot!

With a huffy sigh, she glanced down at the controls and stared in disbelief.

The docking bay door was open.

"What the frell?" The Nebari exclaimed. She scrambled up from her slouch, hitting the console with rapid fingers to double check the reading. There had to be a mistake! But instead, her check only told her it was true. Moya was open to space.

"Pilot, why'd you open the hanger?" she called out, turning quickly to the clamshell. 

There was no response.

"Pilot!" she shouted again. Fear was rising inside of her chest. Again, her plea was met with silence. The imager stayed dark, reflecting the ominous edge that had fallen over the command. She noticed for the first time that the lights had dimmed and Moya's sounds had become oddly hushed. Chiana took a deep breath. This was not good.

She reached for her comm. "D'Argo? Aeryn? Crichton?" A low hiss was her only answer. "Zhaan? Rygel? Anyone!" A note of panic slipped into her voice as she frantically tapped at her unresponsive communicator. A flash on the console caught her eye; she turned and stared, her breath catching in her throat. Something – no, several somethings – had alighted in the docking bay.

The Nebari knew better than to hesitate. Abandoning her post, she snatched a pulse rifle from the strategy table and bolted into the corridor. All around her, Moya's lights began to pulse and flicker, her regular, familiar rhythms fluctuating wildly. Chiana felt alarmed and very alone. What the frell was happening? Were they under attack, being boarded? Was it Rani, Peacekeeper, Nebari? Did the others even know? Were they even still alive?

Breathing hard, grey skin beaded with sweat, she flung herself around a corner and collided head on with someone solid. Both tumbled to the ground in a heap of arms and legs, a flash of pale skin and black leather. The rifle went flying – struggling free, Chiana scrambled for it desperately. She would not be taken! A hand gripped at her wrist; she panicked and kicked out instinctively and with a great deal of force. Her foot met bone with a crunch.

"Owww! Hey, Pip, take it easy! Where's the fire?"

At the familiar voice, Chiana felt a wash of relief. She scrambled to her feet, scooping up her rifle and turned to face her ship mate.

"John! Thank frell!" The words came out in a garbled rush. "The comms are down and there's someone in the Docking bay! I called Pilot but he didn't answer! I think we're being boarded!"

John came straight to his feet, limping slightly as he gingerly rubbed his shin. 

"How the Hell did they get on board without being detected?"

"I don't know! They just appeared out of nowhere!"

Heavy footsteps sounded behind them; Nebari and Human wheeled as one, weapons extended. D'Argo stared at them, hesitating a moment as they lowered their guns with a joint sigh of relief, before striding imperiously over.

"What the frell is going on?" he demanded, towering over his ship-mates. "What's wrong with the comms? And why are you two so nervous?"

"Chi thinks we've been boarded." John set out at a fast walk. Chiana and D'Argo exchanged a glance and fell in behind him.

"Rani?" D'Argo asked brusquely. He was already reaching for his Qualta blade. 

"Could be. If it is, they'll be heading for Pilot's. D'Argo, you get down to his chamber, protect him from these lunatics. Pip, you're with me. Lets go check out what we're dealing with."

************************

It was the sounds that first alerted Zhaan to the fact something was wrong. She had spent the last few arns in her apothecary in the Maintenance bay, sorting her dwindling selection of herbs and making a mental list of what she needed to search for on the commerce planet. Her Gosh'cha berries were getting a little low and she needed some more Ya-xni'al oil. That wasn't going to be easy to find….

A whirring noise interrupted her train of thought. She looked up in confusion and glanced around. There was no one there but her. The whirring got louder, closer – it sounded like the wings of a giant insect. Then came a loud clank and a buzz. The Delvian stared. The noise was coming from the other side of the hanger door!

By the Goddess! It was a ship landing!

Alarmed, she reached for her comm.

"Pilot, are you there?"

There was no answer. The device hissed spitefully, turning back her pleas. Beyond the door, she could hear the whispered hum of voices.

There was no time to seek help. Zhaan hurried over to the work bench where one of Aeryn's pulse rifles lay. The Priestess snatched it up and ducked behind the bench bracing the gun before her as she pointed the muzzle at the sealed entry, readying herself for what might come. She would not let Moya be boarded. They would not pass her!

She was therefore totally unprepared when the sharp sting of a needle dug into her neck and everything went dark.

*********************************

Lightning pulsed through her dreams, snatching her to wakefulness. Exhausted after her long watch and her conversation with Pilot, Aeryn had retreated to her quarters and, pausing only to remove her boots and pistol holster, had collapsed on the bed and slept. But the flash against her eyelids caused the Peacekeeper to jerk awake with a start, realising after a moment that it was not weather or weapons fire that had alarmed her but the flickering of Moya's lights. She gazed around, briefly disorientated, her dark hair in disarray as she noted the pulsing lights and unusual sounds and rhythms that had changed the leviathan's song. The air pressed heavily down on her; the feeling of wrongness was palpable. She knew at once what was happening. The stories were true – without warning, as the legends told, the Rani had come to liberate their god.

"Pilot? Can you hear me? John? D'Argo? Is anyone there?"

The comm hissed, indifferent to her calls. Aeryn felt a chill run down her spine. It was happening just as Pilot had feared it would. She was alone and in the dark.

And so was Pilot.

She had to reach him. He was their target. They would care nothing for the crew. They had a job to do, a parasite to kill. And to do that, they would make sure he was defenceless and isolated.

The Sebacean vaulted out of bed, dragged on her boots, snatched up her pulse pistol and raced into the corridor. She wouldn't let this happen! She had promised!

*********************************

Devastation littered the maintenance bay. Zhaan's carefully stored collection of herbs and potions had been smashed to smithereens, a rainbow arch of shattered glass and coloured liquid that trickled lazily across the floor. The work bench had been toppled, the rifles and pistols lain on it ripped apart with disturbing ferocity, their pieces scattered far and wide. John and Chiana paused in the doorway, their eyes wide in shock at what lay before them. What kind of people would do this?

"I think we have a direct hit on the maintenance bay by Hurricane Rani," John muttered under his breath. He took a step forward, his boot crunching on broken glass and skidding slightly.

"You think it's the Rani?" Chiana followed him reluctantly, her eyes darting nervously from corner to corner. "Why would they do this? I though they were just out for Pilot!"

"Yeah, and they want an easy ride." He pointed with the barrel of his gun. "Take out the guns. No protection. Take out the medicines. No fixing the damage."

He took another step forward when something caught his eye, a pool of deepest blue amidst the coloured lake of broken vials.

"Aw, Hell!" He rushed forward, Chiana a step behind. Zhaan lay immobile on the floor. Quickly John knelt at her side, checking her vital signs as best he could, not entirely certain where the vitals of a sentient plant would be.

"Is she dead?" Chiana's voice had a shrill pitch.

"I don't think so." John leaned forward, examining the Pa'us neck. A small red mark blemished the blue skin. A bad feeling had lodged in his chest. How had they got on board so easily?

"They didn't just take our medicine, they took our healer too." He rose quickly. " Pip, you stay here, guard Zhaan. I gotta get to the Den."

He turned on his heel, pistol braced, just in time to see the door the maintenance bay slam shut.

For a moment, John could only stare in shock. But then he bolted across the room, slipping and sliding on the wreckage as he scrambled to the exit. He banged at the lock but it didn't respond. He pushed up against the door with all his might but it moved not an inch. He felt his heart drop as he glanced around. Chiana had already bounded across the room to the hanger door but found that was sealed as well. The Nebari's dark eyes met John's; both realised what had happened. Zhaan had been bait; the trigger had sprung. They were trapped.

************************************

When D'Argo reached the Den, he found the entrance was sealed tight. He stabbed at the lock for a moment but it stubbornly refused to release. The Luxan paused, drinking in the situation. It was possible that Pilot had sealed the doors himself when he detected the invasion, thinking to protect himself from what might come. But then a flicker of yellow caught his eye; a pair of DRDs sitting at the corner. Both were still and lifeless.

"Pilot?" D'Argo roared. "Pilot, are you all right?"

There was no answer. The warrior pressed one ear to the door, listening carefully but he could hear nothing but Moya's irregular pulsing.

"Frell!" His patience evaporated. D'Argo braced his Qualta blade and began hacking angrily at the lock, tentacles flailing mace like around his head. But his effort proved fruitless. Exhausted, the Luxan paused. This was getting him nowhere. He needed a saw.

But even as he turned, Aeryn appeared at a run around the corner, pulse pistol gripped in her fist. She spotted him at the same instant and skidded to a halt.

"What's happening?" she gasped. "Is Pilot all right?"

"I don't know. The door has been sealed somehow." D'Argo moved towards her, casting around the corridor. He didn't know what was happening behind that door, but he was certain it wasn't good. They had to get inside. 

"We need something to cut…" he began but Aeryn interrupted sharply.

"We don't have time for that!" She grabbed his arm and half-dragged the big Luxan up the corridor. "There's another way in! Come on!"

********************************

Aeryn breathed hard, as much from anxiety as exhaustion, as she led D'Argo down the dark, slender passageway that wound along the outer wall of Pilot's chamber. She was more afraid than she cared to admit. It was not the thought of a fight that worried – she was a peacekeeper, born to fight, trained for combat in such a way it became almost a pleasure. No, what frightened her was what they might find had happened beyond the scant inches of the wall beside her. Images danced in her head, Pilot hurt, Pilot dead, the Rani laughing and taunting her for her inability to defend her friends. She didn't even know what the Rani looked like, but in her minds eye they grew to monstrous size, fanged and clawed, howling ravenous, merciless monsters. Angrily she shook the image away, berating herself for being absurd. But still, they were an unknown. And they had power here. They had got aboard Moya undetected, moved unhindered through her passageways and entered Pilot's chamber unresisted, despite the army of DRDs he had surrounded himself with. She had no doubt that they were in there. A part of her mind argued that she was overreacting that Pilot himself had sealed the door to prevent any assault but deep inside, she knew this wasn't so. She couldn't explain her conviction – perhaps the small part of her that was Pilot made her sensitive to his peril – but nonetheless she was certain that despite all their precautions and her promise to keep him safe, Pilot was now in the hands of the Rani.

Ahead, a small grill opened out onto the vaulted chamber. Aeryn paused, keeping back out of any possible line of sight, and listened. Below there were footsteps, movement, a clinking that she couldn't identify and the low growl of unfamiliar voices. The peacekeeper tensed. Her instincts had been proved right. But this was one occasion she would have liked to have been wrong.

"Rani," D'Argo's low voice contained an unmistakable menace. He took a tighter grip on his Qualta blade, his eyes burning fiercely. "They will pay for this intrusion!"

"Let's hope that's all they have to pay for."Aeryn tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice and she braced her pulse pistol. Sweat ran in her eyes – angrily she brushed it out of the way. Her heart was pounding in her ears, an unwelcome distraction that hindered her concentration. _Let him be all right!_ She whispered silently. _Don't let me be too late! I promised him! _

"I don't hear Pilot," D'Argo whispered grimly.

Aeryn nodded. "That's what worries me. Come on."

She motioned him closer with a jerk of her head. Silently she ducked down, slinking beneath the grate to rise, back to the wall on the far side.__The two warriors paused; their eyes met. Then slowly, cautiously, theypeered down into the chamber and felt their blood run cold.

The reason was Pilot's silence was immediately apparent; a large vicious looking gag had been looped tightly around the lower protrusions of his carapace to dig deep into his mouth. His four arms had been chained securely to the columns that enveloped his consoles against which indignity he continued to struggle vainly. A trickle of purple blood ran down the side of his face, evidence that he had not submitted easily, backed up by the fact that several of his captors were sporting and impressive array of fresh bruises.

The Rani themselves milled about him amid clusters of lifeless DRDs. They were a tall race, with vivid scarlet hair and orange-red skin, their mouths protruding like the muzzle of a cat.They stood in a disinterested ring, casually holding their strange weapons, small rifle like devices, loaded up to fire sharp needles, watching their captive almost clinically. Two of them knelt on his consoles, one holding his head firmly still, the other kneeling back as he tapped at a large syringe-like gun filled with an angry red liquid. Pilot was watching them as best he could, his expression furious, but his eyes, Aeryn realised, were filled with aterrible fear.

The peacekeeper felt a rush of relief. He was still alive. That was something. But she didn't fancy the odds. A quick count told her that twelve Rani stood scattered around the chamber. An apprehension that was almost fear like rose within her.

But then her eyes were drawn back to Pilot and she felt her fear ebb away, to be replaced by a burning anger. How dare they treat her friend that way? How _dare_ they? 

With an indifference that was almost studied, the Rani with the syringe-gun turned and leaned forward, the point of the needle arcing dangerously towards Pilot's neck. Pilot tried to pull back but the second Rani gripped his head sharply and held him ruthlessly in place. 

Aeryn didn't hesitate. Shouting in fury, she kicked down the grate and let lose her anger in a haze of pulse fire.

**********************************

Silence filled the maintenance bay. John sat wearily, back against the toppled work bench as he rested his head in his hands, muttering over and over again at his own stupidity. Beside him Zhaan was a blue shadow, still unconscious from the effects of the Rani drug. A clatter and shrill squeal of frustration came from the direction of the door – Chiana had spent the entire of however long they'd been there attacking the lock with whatever she could find, entirely without success. The thief had not taken their incarceration well; in a burst of fury, she sent the useless tool flying across the room to bounce off the equally immovable hanger. With a huff, the young Nebari folded her arms and slumped to the floor, her back against the door, her expression a mix of the same frustration and anger that currently resided in John.

"So what now?"

John looked at the grey-skinned adolescent with weary eyes.

"I dunno Pip. Any bright ideas?"

"From her? You'll be waiting a while! You two should try using your brains for once!"

John and Chiana started as one, astonishment written on their features as a nearby vent grate clattered to the floor. A small green face peered out, with a distinctly smug expression.

"But, oh no, as usual, it's up to me to save the day!"

"Guido!" John exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. "I never thought I'd ever be this happy to see you!"

"Way to go, Ryge!" Chiana had already hurried over. She knelt and examined the vent. Almost at once her face fell.

"This frelling's hole's too small! We can't get out this way!" She reached out and clouted Rygel across the head. "Thanks for nothing, slug boy!"

John had joined her, his eyes thoughtful. "Not so hasty, Pip. Hey spanky, does this vent lead out into the corridor?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Any chance you could open the door?"

"What's in it for me?"

"Rygel!" John and Chiana shouted as one and the Hynerian drew back.

"All right, all right, I'll do it! But remember, you two owe me!"

With that, the tiny green dominar withdrew and vanished back into the darkness. Chiana watched him go with an expression of distaste.

"Little toad!" she muttered.

John placed a hand on her shoulder. "Leave him be. If he can break us out, I ain't complaining. I've had enough of Leviathan Alcatraz for one day."

He stood and walked away staring at the wall. _Hurry it up, Sparky!_ He thought to himself. _Hell knows what's going on out there!_

**********************************__

The needle dart whistled past, missing her ear by inches. Aeryn twisted, dodged and opened fire, felling her assailant in a haze of pulse fire. Behind her, she could hear D'Argo, roaring in anger as he laid about him with his Qualta blade, but she had no time to turn and check on his progress. Three Rani were down already – the two who had been closest to Pilot, felled by her initial volley and the third she had taken out moments before. Glancing back, she saw D'Argo add two more to their tally, as a sweeping blow from his sword sent a pair of crimson heads tumbling into the void. Aeryn barely had time to note their passing, her breath coming in short gasps as the adrenalin of combat set her veins on fire. Beyond the red haze of Rani faces, she caught a glimpse of Pilot, his orange eyes wide with a strange combination of fear and hope. But then he was gone, lost behind a looming assailant. Aeryn blocked his blow with her arm, ducked under and swept his legs from under him, sending him tumbling off the walkway into oblivion. A companion rushed to avenge him but Aeryn knocked his gun aside almost contemptuously, grabbing his arm as she hauled him into range of her fist.

"Aeryn! Look out!"

D'Argo's warning saved her life. The hiss of the needle gun was all but obscured by the roar of combat but Aeryn was trained to react with lightning speed. Viciously she gripped her opponent, swinging him round and pulling him up to shield her from the fire. He took a direct hit to the chest, staring down in disbelief at the protuberance of needles before slumping unconscious to the walkway.

The peacekeeper wheeled in search of new targets. There had been twelve; eight were dead. By the door, D'Argo was fighting hand to hand with three of them and despite the odds, appeared to have the upper hand. Aeryn started over, intent on aiding him when something made her pause. A sudden inexplicable apprehension filled her.

Where was the fourth?

The rattle of chains sent her spinning to face the Den. The elusive Rani froze, a night hunter caught in the light, startled. He was half across the console, moving towards the struggling Pilot. In his hand, he held the syringe-gun. 

An angry red haze showered Aeryn's vision. Her pulse pistol snapped up almost of it's own accord, her finger half-squeezed on the trigger….

Strong arms gripped her around the neckand arm; her shot went wide. One of the Rani fighting D'Argo had broken clear, and seeing her intent had pounced from behind. The peacekeeper ripped his hand away from her throat, jamming her elbow hard into his ribs, before bringing up her pistoled fist into his face. Ahead, she could see his companion, on the move once more as he advanced on Pilot. Aeryn didn't know what the angry substance in the syringe-gun was but of one thing she was certain; it could not be good. Desperately she fought to break clear, to get a clean shot but the Rani warrior was infuriatingly persistent, grappling for her gun as he grasped her hair and tried to drag her back. She screamed in frustration and she tried to get free off his hold but she couldn't and found herself left with no option but to watch helplessly as the other Rani yanked Pilot's head back with one hand, bracing the syringe-gun against his neck with the other. For an instant, Pilot's eyes met hers, filled with an almost plaintive fear. He knew what was coming and Aeryn knew it too but neither could do anything to stop it.

The needle plunged into his skin. A moment later, the syringe was empty.

The world seemed to freeze, to hang in that terrible instant forever. A chilling numbness filled Aeryn's body. For a moment, she seemed to float in an unreal world, away from her body and emotions. But then the burning fire of fury swept through her like a storm. She heard herself screaming as she snatched her hand free, reality moving in a strange and vivid slow motion as she swivelled and slammed the flat of her hand into her attackers face. He staggered back, stumbling over his unconscious counterpart and she followed up quickly with a devastating kick that sent him sailing down into the darkness. She twisted, pulse pistol raised and fixed upon the Rani with the empty syringe-gun, who gazed at the dark haired wrath before him with fearful eyes. He had no time to dodge. Her blast sent him flying backwards to collapse lifeless in a smoking heap.

And suddenly time snapped back into normality and she was standing amidst her fallen assailants, pulse pistol in hand, shaking uncontrollably as she stared at Pilot. Behind her. D'Argo had put an end to the last of his attackers and stood a little way back, his face filled with concern as he saw the navigator. Pilot was slumped forward weakly, his eyes bright with pain and eyelids fluttering. The stab from the needle was bleeding softly but of greater concern were the strange streaks of red that fanned out from the wound.

Aeryn rushed forward, discarding her pistol in her haste as she scrambled onto the console and knelt beside her friend, ripping away the gag and cradling his huge head gently in her arms. His breathing was ragged and shallow, his eyes now closed. D'Argo appeared beside her, hacking away the restrictive chains with his Qualta blade, before kneeling quickly beside her. In one hand, he held the empty syringe-gun.

"What was that?" he said, staring at Pilot with fear and concern.

Aeryn felt cold all over. _How could this be happening? I promised him! I promised! _She couldn't think, couldn't do anything but repeat those words in her head. _This isn't real! It can't be!_

D'Argo noticed her distraction. 

"Aeryn, are you all right?" He received no answer. "Aeryn!"

He caught her shoulder and the dark-haired Sebacean looked up, shrugging out of his grip.

"I'm fine," she snapped, her mind suddenly clear. "But I'm not the one we need to worry about here!" She met his eyes fiercely. "You have to find Zhaan, bring her here, now! If this is poison, she could be his only hope!"

She glared as he hesitated. "Move it, D'Argo!"

With a last glance at Pilot, the Luxan vaulted down and vanished across the walkway. Aeryn stared after him for a moment, then turned her attention back to Pilot.

He was looking up at her, pain etched across his features.

"Aeryn." he gasped weakly. "I feel…."

"I know." She rested her head against his. "Don't talk. Save your strength. You'll be fine, just focus, try to stay with me. Zhaan's on her way."

Pilot nodded weakly. He shifted his head and winced.

"Don't move!" she admonished sharply. He looked up at her and tried to smile.

"You've been a good friend, Aeryn," he said softly. "To me and to Moya. Thank you for trying to help me."

Aeryn felt numb – she could barely speak.

"I told you not to talk," she managed, looking away to hide the glistening tears that welled up in her eyes.

_Zhaan, where are you?_

END OF PART ONE.

   [1]: mailto:jesspallas@hotmail.com



	2. Part two

Time and Again – Part Two

Time and Again – Part Two.

By Jess Pallas.

Disclaimer;I don't own Farscape or any of its characters. Please don't sue me!

Feedback; Go on then! E-mail me at [jesspallas@hotmail.com][1]

Archiving; If you like it, take it. But please, let me know first.

Rating: Not sure what the standard is but I'd guess at PG and General. No naughtiness (sorry shippers) but there are a few fights.

Spoilers; Nothing major. References to TWWW, EFG, HOTR, Nerve and DMS.

Timeframe; Season two, between DALD and OOTM.

Summary: With Pilot facing death, Aeryn is forced to relive her past.

Recap; Moya has been boarded by a race called the Rani, who have a grudge against Pilot's race. John, Zhaan and Chiana have been locked in the maintenance bay whilst D'Argo and Aeryn got into a big fight in the Den in an attempt to rescue Pilot. It failed and Pilot has been poisoned….

"Rygel, are you done yet?"

Chiana had never been renowned for her patience. From outside, an angry huff was her reply.

"If you don't stop bothering me, I'll leave you to get free on your own!" The Hynerian retorted, his reply muffled by the door.

"Pip, leave Cranky alone," John called across the room. "Come help me with Zhaan, huh?"

"I really don't need help, John," Zhaan muttered as she sat, eyes closed, leaning back against the fallen workbench. The Delvian had begun to come round not long after Rygel's impromptu appearance and although still groggy, appeared to be recovering.

"Whatever I was injected with was designed to work on fauna not flora." Her eyes opened and her gaze was intense. "But if I were anyone else, I might be dead by now."

There was a meaningful pause. John exchanged a worried glance with Chiana. What was happening elsewhere on Moya? Had Aeryn or D'Argo fallen foul of the needles? Had Pilot?

Abruptly, Chiana grabbed John's arm. He turned, his eyes questioning, but she shook her head quickly.

"Listen!" she hissed.

Beyond the hanger door, there was movement. Voices hissed, low and guttural. There was a murmur, a clank and the sound of jets firing followed by a low insect hum and the grinding sound that accompanied the opening of Moya's docking bay. The three prisoners exchanged astonished glances. The Rani were leaving! But were they beating a hasty retreat or retiring victorious?

A shout of triumph from Rygel arrested their attention. The door swung open with a lazy hum, as though it had never intended to do anything else. Almost as one, the human, the Delvian and the Nebari leapt to their feet and set out at a run into the corridor. Rygel barely managed to scramble aside to avoid their rush. He glared after them in annoyance.

"Thank you all so much for your overwhelming gratitude!" he roared down the corridor after them, but they were already gone, indifferent to his irritation. The little Dominar paused for a moment, then turned his thronesled and set out towards the centre chamber. All this exertion had made him hungry!

********************************

For the second time in an arn, John rounded a corner and found himself face to face with D'Argo. The big Luxan pulled up short in surprise, his eyes wide. He looked breathless, and an uncharacteristic anxiety creased his features. In one hand, he gripped his Qualta blade. The metal edge was stained with Rani blood.

John felt a terrible apprehension run through him. What had happened? And where was Aeryn?

"D'Argo, what…" he began but was cut off short as the Luxan pushed roughly past him to where Zhaan stood, catching the Pa'u's arm in his strong grip.

"Zhaan, Aeryn needs you in Pilot's chamber, now!" he declared, half dragging her down the corridor. John felt himself go cold. He remembered Zhaan's words about the needles. _Please don't let her be hurt!_ He rushed forward, grabbing D'Argo's arm.

"What's happened to Aeryn?" he exclaimed. "Is she okay?"

D'Argo brushed him aside effortlessly. "She's fine. It's Pilot who needs help."

A hushed silence fell. John felt a surge of relief but quickly suppressed it beneath rising shame. Pilot was his friend too; he had no reason to feel relieved. D'Argo and Zhaan were already moving fast in the direction of Pilot's chamber, Chiana a step behind and John hurried to catch up. 

"So it was the Rani," he said.

"Of course it was!" D'Argo snapped impatiently. "Where were you? You should have come straight down to Pilot's!"

"We hit a snag," John drawled. "Some joker locked us in the maintenance bay. If it hadn't been for Sparky dropping by, we might still be there."

"How could you be so foolish?" D'Argo was not happy. "Aeryn and I were forced to attack twelve Rani unaided! Now thanks to your stupidity, Pilot is dying and we are all at risk!"

"Hey, now wait a minute…" John began, intending to defend himself, but Zhaan intervened.

"This is not the time for arguments!" she exclaimed, imposing herself between the two male as she fixed them both with a steely gaze. "Save your energy. We may need it."

There was a shamed silence. D'Argo flicked an annoyed glance at the human, but Zhaan was already striding away, followed quickly by Chiana and the disagreement was put aside in favour of more pressing issues. Side by side, the two moved hurriedly after them.

The entrance to Pilot's chamber loomed ahead. John followed the others inside but pulled up short, eyes wide at the grim scene before him. Rani bodies lay strewn around the chamber, red-orange blood oozing across the walkway to drip down into the darkness. The walls and floor were riddled with sharp little needles, the console burned by pulse fire. Beyond it all, huddled behind his console,Pilot lay half slumped, his breathing shallow and irregular, his eyes closed tightly and his features creased in pain. Firey red lines radiated like licks of flame from a small wound in his neck; an empty syringe-like gun lay discarded by his arm. Beside him, gently supporting his head, was Aeryn, the paleness of her face heightened by the dark mass of her hair. She was shaking.

Zhaan was with them in moments, stepping passed the corpses and puddles of gore as though they weren't even there. With a gentle deftness she examined the wound.

John watched her work, his own guilt over his earlier relief rising with every microt. Pilot looked terrible, his agony written on every feature and those streaks of red didn't look too healthy either. He was getting a bad feeling about this.

Zhaan finished her examination. Her face was impassive; too impassive. He watched as the Delvian picked up the abandoned syringe-gun and sniffed at it experimentally. She paused and smelt it again. All at once, a wash of apprehension crossed her features. She suppressed it almost immediately, glancing anxiously at Aeryn, but the peacekeeper had not seen, too concerned with her ailing friend. Breathing hard, Zhaan placed the gun down and looked away; straight towards John. He caught her eyes at once, his awareness of what had just passed in her face plain for her to see. Sorrow touched her azure features as he read the truth hidden in her eyes. He felt his stomach drop and swallowed, briefly closing his eyes before glancing across to Aeryn. He noted her pale face and anxious expression and wondered how in the Hell he was going to tell her.

"I think you'd all better leave," Zhaan spoke softly, but her words carried. "I need to speak with Pilot alone."

"I'm not going anywhere!" Aeryn retorted hotly, her expression indignant.

Zhaan met her stare, deflecting her anger passively with a barrier of calm.

"Please, Aeryn. This is important."

The peacekeeper wavered. "But…"

Pilot opened his eyes and looked up at her and the words died on her lips.

"Aeryn. I'll be fine," he whispered slowly. "I want to hear what Zhaan has to say."

_He knows_, John realised. He felt hollow inside. _He knows what she's going to say. Damn, how can this be happening?_

Biting back his emotions, he stepped forward, trying to smile.

"Come on, Aeryn," he said, offering his hand.

Aeryn stared at him for a moment. Then she rose abruptly, jumped down and shoved passed him, storming out of the chamber with a stony expression. John hesitated a microt, glancing back at Pilot and Zhaan. The navigator met his eyes.

"Go after her, commander," he said softly. "I think soon she might need you very badly."

John could barely speak. "Pilot… I'm so sorry we got you into this…"

Pilot cut him short. "My decision, commander. And right now, someone else needs your sympathy more than I do."

John nodded slowly. Somehow this didn't feel real, as though he could just reach for the remote, hit rewind and make it all disappear. But he couldn't, of course. This was real life. You only got one shot at it.

But at this moment, he wished with all his heart that his shot had been a better one.

With a deep breath, John Crichton turned his back on the ailing navigator and hurried after Aeryn.

**********************************

He found her on the terrace. She stood a little way away from the entrance, her back to him as she faced the stars, a void of black and paleness that both blended and contrasted with the view. Her shoulders were tense and rigid, her fists clenched. She looked like a pulse rifle of the verge of overload.

Despite his reservations, John stepped into the firing line.

"Aeryn?" he said softly.

Her body, already taut, tensed further. She didn't turn, didn't even respond. She just stood there, a shimmering void of darkness just beyond his reach.

John sighed and moved closer still, aware as he did so that he was taking his life in his hands.

"You okay?" he ventured.

Her head jerked; a hiss of annoyance and exasperation escaped her lips.

"What do you think?" she snapped, but there was tremulous note to her anger. John wisely kept his distance.

"This isn't your fault, you know," he told her.

"Who said it was?" The edge of distress was now blatant.

"Nobody, except maybe yourself. See, this is what I think. You're blaming yourself for what's happened to Pilot. He's your friend and you care about him and now you're beating yourself up 'cos you think you could have done more."John's voice was rising; emboldened by her silence, he moved over to stand at her shoulder. "Well, here's a newsflash, Aeryn. This ain't your fault. It's not anyone's. It was just bad luck, bad timing and bad judgement. You're probably the least to blame of all of us! You were against putting Pilot at risk from the start. You tried your heart out to protect him when we got boarded. You fought to save him but you couldn't. But that don't mean you didn't do everything you could!"

Aeryn wheeled to face him. To his astonishment, John realised her face was streaked with tears.

"Everything I could?" she exclaimed, fighting to hold back her sobs. "How can you say that? The first real friend I ever made is down there, on the verge of death, because I was caught unprepared! I should have stayed down there with him! I should have been ready! I knew how scared he was, how dangerous the Rani were, but I didn't even pass that on to you! I promised him John! I promised I wouldn't let him get hurt and now…"

Her voice choked; tears overwhelmed her. John caught her gently and held her against him. For a moment, she struggled, but his persistence paid off – she eased herself onto his shoulder and let her sobs escape. Tenderly he cradled her, providing a rock of support as she unleashed her frustration and anguish, letting her emotions run free.

It was a long time before he let her go.

********************************

An unnatural silence lingered in the centre chamber. Although Moya's rhythms had returned to normal once the Rani had departed, a pulse of tension seemed to run through her systems, a reaction that showed her concern over the illness of her Pilot. It created an edge to the air that seemed to shimmer and press down upon them all, with a weight that was almost palpable. It made talking too hard, too much off an effort and even restricted the lungs, leaving the gentle wisp of light-drawn breaths the only sound to be heard.

It had been several arns now since Zhaan had banished them from the Den. D'Argo and Chiana had left as ordered and wandered in silence to the centre chamber where they had encountered Rygel, indulging his appetite with the last haunch of Keva. Wordlessly, they had joined him, picking meat off the bone until John and Aeryn had appeared, hand in hand. Both had stopped, self-consciously releasing their hold on spying the others, but no comment had been made and so they had settled side by side to wait, in silence, together.

It was a long wait. The microts dragged like arns, the arns like weekens, but nobody spoke, lost deep in their own thoughts, as if to speak would make it real and force them all to face it. A mix of sorrow and selfishness played through their thoughts – concern for Pilot's well-being, but concern also for themselves and what would become of them and their home on Moya if their navigator were to die.

So it was with a combination of apprehension and relief that they heard the echo of soft footfalls in the passage and Zhaan appeared, her expression uncertain. Aeryn half-rose to greet her but words failed her as she met the Delvian's eyes. Zhaan hesitated, almost as though she was afraid that she had given away too much, but then she sighed and looked down. Aeryn's face became stricken, her white knuckled hands gripping the table. Gently John placed his hands on her shoulders and eased her back into her seat.

"He's not going to make it, is he?" he said softly.

Zhaan looked at him, her eyes welling with tears.

"No, he isn't," she replied.

There was a moment of stunned silence. D'Argo bowed his head, his features set and emotionless. Chiana continued to stare at the Delvian Pa'u, dark eyes wide, mouth half open as though she couldn't register what she'd just heard. Even Rygel paused in his eating, his face wary. But John ignored them all, even himself, his attention fixed on Aeryn. The peacekeeper was immobile, staring in disbelief at the table top. Concerned, John leaned forward and rested his chin on her shoulder, softly squeezing her upper arms in an attempt to reassure. She didn't even acknowledge his presence.

D'Argo broke the silence. "How long does he have"

"I can't be certain," Zhaan replied, her voice hushed. "The poison is called Athsat. It causes a slow degeneration of body and mind as it moves throughout the system. When the deterioration becomes widespread, the body ceases to function and the victim dies. In beings of our stature, the process takes about four solar days. In a creature of Pilot's size it will take longer – perhaps even weekens."

"Is he in pain?" Chiana's grey face was pale.

"Yes." Zhaan's eyes were haunted. "And it will get worse. He is already having trouble maintaining Moya's systems."

"Can't you mix up some kind of antidote?" John's eyes never left Aeryn.

The priestess shook her head. "There isn't one. Athsat is virulent and universally fatal."

"Can't Moya drain it from his system like she did for Aeryn?" D'Argo asked, leaning forward as Zhaan sighed.

"No," she replied. "The Athsat is harmless to Moya but she is incapable of dispersing it. The Rani chose their poison with care and they chose well. Moya can do nothing."

"Can you at least give him something for the pain?" Aeryn's voice was hoarse and rife with emotion as she looked up at Zhaan.

"I could have," Zhaan replied quietly, meeting the Sebacean's gaze. "Until the Rani destroyed my medicines."

"Bastards." The word slipped out before John could catch it. His shipmates glanced at him. They said nothing, but the sentiment was mirrored in their eyes.

It was Rygel who asked the question that no one else dared ask.

"What about us?" he said abruptly. "This is all very sad, I'm sure, but will we be able to control Moya if Pilot dies?"

"Pilot says it is unlikely." Zhaan responded with a certain reluctance. "He has… arrangements… well in hand. He has already sent out a distress call to any leviathans in the vicinity and is guiding Moya as best he can towards the commerce planet. We can wait there until we receive a response. The other ship will act as a guide and accompany Moya back to Pilot's home world where we can…"

"Get a replacement?" There was acid disdain burning through Aeryn's voice.

Zhaan did not reply. She stared at the floor.

Abruptly, Aeryn shruggedfree of John's hold and came to her feet.

"I take it he knows?" she said coldly.

The priestess nodded. "I told him everything. He seemed to know it was coming."

"You say he's having trouble controlling Moya?"

"That's right." Zhaan was watching Aeryn warily, concern etched on her features.

"Then he'll need my help. Excuse me."

The peacekeeper swept passed and disappeared into the corridor. John rose to follow, but Zhaan's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Leave her, John," she said softly.

The former astronaut continued to stare into the passageway.

"Do you think she'll be all right?" he whispered, voice barely audible.

Zhaan met his eyes, her face filled with sympathy.

"Only time will tell," she said.

********************************

The Chamber was dark and silent, the creature at its centre motionless. For a chilling instant, Aeryn thought that Zhaan had made a mistake, that Pilot had died in her absence. But then the navigator stirred, his large head lifting ponderously as he looked up and met her gaze.

"Officer…. Aeryn," he acknowledged with unusual informality. He shifted, four arms moving haltingly over the controls. "I was just resting."

Aeryn forced back her emotions, although her heart still beat too fast in her chest. _Control yourself!_ She admonished herself silently. _He needs you to be strong!_

The peacekeeper started across the walkway in short, brisk strides. 

"Zhaan said you were having problems controlling Moya," she said brusquely. "I thought you could use my help."

Pilot nodded. "I would appreciate that. This Athsat is affecting my co-ordination." 

There was a strange note to his voice, a tone that Aeryn didn't recognise. He was watching her intently, his eyes a mystery that gave nothing away. There was a tension about him that differed from his usual state of controlled panic and it seemed almost as though it had something to do with her.

She hauled herself onto his consoles, an action she had performed a thousand times before but felt at that moment so strange as to be almost frightening. She noted the red serpents that snaked along his neck had spread, touching his cheek and the base of his forearm. His eyes followed her gaze and she jerked quickly away to avoid being caught out. But his expression made it plain; he had seen where she was looking. He seemed on the verge of speech.

Quickly she jumped in first, eager to forestall him with a change of subject.

"I think it might be a good idea for you to go over some of these controls for me. I'm still a bit uncertain on…"

She glanced up and her voice tailed away. His features were awash with feelings; hurt, frustration, confusion, anger, but above all overwhelming fear.

"Zhaan has told you, hasn't she?" His voice was rich with the same cocktail of emotions as his face.

Unable to speak, Aeryn nodded wordlessly. There was a plea in his eyes, a plea for her understanding but something else too, an elusive request that lingered just beyond her reach.

"Then why are you doing this?" There was both hurt and pain behind his words.

"Doing what?" Speech was a strain; Aeryn's voice shook.

Pilot was staring in disbelief. "Pretending that nothing's happened!" he exclaimed.

Aeryn leaned forward, fighting a resurgence of tears. "I came down here to help you because of what's happened…"

"But you won't acknowledge it!" His voice dropped from its angry tone to one that begged for understanding. "I don't need technical assistance, Aeryn. I need a friend." He took a deep breath. "I'm dying, Aeryn. And I'm scared. Very scared."

There was a lengthy silence. The darkness seemed to magnify a thousand fold, a heavy cloak that sought to wrap them away from the world. The two stared at each other, bound together by blood and friendship but facing a crisis that could rip them apart for eternity.

Then slowly, almost tentatively, Aeryn reached forward and rested her hand on one of Pilot's claws. The contact seemed to break the tension; both visibly relaxed. Aeryn looked at her friend, her expression filled with sorrow.

"Pilot, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just… the thought of you dying… that isn't something I really want to face."

There was an almost rueful expression on Pilot's face.

"You're not the only one," he said, echoing the words spoken in command what felt like cycles ago. He sighed.

"This is not how I thought it would be. It certainly isn't how it's supposed to be. A leviathan is not supposed to outlive their Pilot. It's supposed to be a bonding for life." He paused. "That probably sounds a little hypocritical coming from me. I am here at another's expense after all, but still….

Aeryn squeezed his claw gently. "I know what you mean."

"Do you?" Pilot looked down. "I have tried to explain to Moya." His voice had an edge to it. Aeryn could only imagine how much that conversation must have hurt him. "I think she understands. I hope she does. She wasn't ready when she lost her first Pilot. I do not want that to happen with me." There was a hint of bitter regretin his face. "I've caused her nothing but trouble in life. I can only hope my death will go more smoothly."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Aeryn sat up straight, her expression fierce. "You've done everything you could for Moya! You're an excellent Pilot!"

"I'm sufficient," he replied bitterly. "And at times I am barely even that. Look at the trouble I've inflicted on this ship. I caused the death of her true Pilot. I have almost got her killed on more than one occasion. I almost killed myself and left her helpless! I manage but I am never comfortable, never in complete control." He sighed again. "Poor Moya. She deserves a real Pilot. She'll be better off without me."

"That is enough of that!"Aeryn snapped angrily. "We've been through his before and you agreed with us!"

"I conceded," Pilot corrected coldly. "The difference being that I had a choice between living or dying back then. Now I don't."

Aeryn looked away. Pilot took a deep breath, gazing down at his panels. He seemed to be deep in thought, almost struggling with himself, with some terrible decision. Despite herself, Aeryn found her eyes drawn back to him. He seemed aware of her but did not acknowledge it. When he finally looked up, his eyes were haunted.

"Aeryn." His voice was halting and almost reluctant. "I need to ask you a favour."

"Anything, Pilot."

Pilot closed his eyes uncomfortably. "Don't say that until you've heard what it is." He met her eyes once more, his gaze again filled with that mysterious plea. "I need you to understand; I wouldn't be asking this if I wasn't desperate. But I am falling apart! Everything that matters to me is slipping away. I'm losing Moya; I can barely hear her now. I always knew I would die not hearing her voice, but I thought it would be because I followed her beyond, not preceded her!" The anguish in his eyes was indescribable. "Do you have any idea how it feels to know she is there, to feel her pulsing around me but not to share in it? I cannot do it. I cannot sit here and slowly rot to death in silence, listening only to the sound of my body screaming in pain! I do not want this to drag on for weekens. I need it to end. Now."

Aeryn felt the blood drain from her face.

"What are you saying?" she said in a voice that shook.

The intensity of his gaze was frightening.

"I want you to kill me," he said.

Her heart froze. Darkness and silence swamped her, engulfing her like waves of energy. Her mind seemed to scream. This wasn't real! This was a dream, a nightmare. At any moment she would wake in her cell, the illusion over and hear Pilot's voice calling her to command. It had to happen! There was no way that these events could go on. It hurt far too much to be real. 

"Aeryn?"

Pilot's quiet voice jerked her attention back to him. He was watching her with obvious concern, but his eyes still asked that terrible question. She felt sick. How could he do this to her? He knew her history, her role in the death of Moya's first Pilot. But the past was a shackle from which there was no escape. Time and again, it came back to haunt you.

"I can't." The words slipped out almost unconsciously. "You know I can't. How can you even ask me?"

"Who else is there?" There was an eerie calm to Pilot's voice. "I barely knew what friendship was before I met you. I can trust you, Aeryn."

"That's why I can't!" Aeryn felt her desperation rising. "Ask someone else! Ask anyone else!"

"They wouldn't understand." Pilot was immovable. "You were a peacekeeper…"

"No longer!" Aeryn interrupted hotly.

"That doesn't change anything." Pilot ignored her protest. "I know you believe in killing out of mercy. You asked Crichton to kill you when you faced the Living Death."

"That was different!" Tears leaked unbidden from her eyes.

Pilot met her gaze. "How?"

She had no answer. Her protests, her arguments, died on her lips. She remembered the heat, the feeling of horror as mind and body slipped from her control. She had pleaded with Crichton to end her life. Was this situation really any different?

"What about Moya?" The words were half-hearted.

"She knows I intended to ask this of you. She is prepared. The commerce planet is barely half a solar day from here. You should reach it without difficulty."

Aeryn felt herself nod. Her resolve had crumbled. Pilot was right; she couldn't let this drag out, leave him suffering because of her own selfish desire to keep her friend a little longer. She owed him this. Somewhere deep inside, without her consent, a part of her had made the decision.

Numbly, she rose and climbed down onto the walkway, pulse pistol released from its holster and braced in one hand. She turned to face him, fingering the weapon.

"This won't be quick," she heard herself say. "Your species are endurant."

"I know." Pilot's expression was a strange combination of fear and gratitude. "But it is quicker than the alternative."

She felt detached, absent, the movement of her body under the control of someone else. Her mind, unable to comprehend the act she was about to commit, appeared to have shut down.

"Do you want to speak to the others first?" her mouth said.

Pilot shook his head. "What would I say?" He looked at her intensely for a moment. 

"Besides, I think it may be…easier… if we keep this arrangement between ourselves. Simply tell them I died. There is no need to tell them how."

"That's probably best." A part of her was screaming in silence but her body failed to listen, continuing to act out the set of moves that would lead to the death of her friend. Her hands gripped the pistol; her arms raised and she levelled the barrel at Pilot.

"Are you ready?" The words had no emotion behind them.

"I am." Pilot smiled weakly. "Thank you, Aeryn Sun. You have been a good friend. Of all I leave behind apart from Moya, it is you I shall miss the most."

The screaming rose, clamping her body and destroying her detachment. She stared at her friend along the barrel of her gun, her hands shaking uncontrollably. She felt herself balk; she couldn't do it! He was her friend and more; a part of her was him. How could she even consider this?

He must have sensed her hesitation. His orange eyes met hers and held.

"Aeryn," he whispered. "Please."

She could take it no more. The scream ripped free, escaping her lips like the wail of a banshee. She tore herself free of his gaze, of his pleas, of his life and all he meant to her. Her eyes jammed shut and she flung her head to one side, knowing if she faced him she'd feel too much. She lost feeling in her hands but yet she felt the pistol jerk and keep jerking, rocking in her hands. Brilliant red flashed against her eyelids, flooding the chamber. She knew she was firing but she continued to scream as though her lungs would burst, kept herself in darkness as though to see or hear what she was doing would somehow make it real. Her gun vibrated, hot against her shaking palms as she freed its deadly energy so as to free her friend.

And then suddenly it was over. Her scream died. Her gun went still. The firing had stopped. Had she halted it? She wasn't sure. Silence and darkness returned like phantoms to fill the chamber, freezing her in place, gun extended, eyes tight shut, head turned aside. There was no sound, nothing but a faint smell; the smell of burnt flesh. The odour was familiar. She had experienced it in this very chamber, three cycles before.

"Pilot?" The name escaped her lips before she could stop it. There was no response. The silence deepened. 

She had to look. She knew that. She had to be sure her task was complete. But she couldn't. Memories rose to haunt her, memories of her last murder in this room and of the victim of this new one, memories of his voice, his eyes, his friendship. She couldn't look, couldn't see hi like this. She couldn't.

But she did. Almost against her will, she felt her head turn to the front. Her hands shook around her still extended gun. Reluctantly, fearfully, her eyelids slipped open.

For a moment, she could only stare, stare in morbid disbelief at what she had done. Tendrils of steam rose in indifferent spirals to vanish into oblivion. There was no question he was dead. She felt hollow inside, as though a part of her had been ripped away. It was just the same as before, an image identical to the one in her memory. There was only one difference.

His time the image hurt.

_What have I done?_

She could take it no longer. The gun tumbled from her nerveless fingers to clatter on the walkway. She found herself gasping for breath as she backed away, her eyes locked on Pilot's smoking corpse. Something inside of her snapped; her mind seemed to dissolve. She could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears, her blood racing through her veins in a flood. Suddenly she had to get out.

She turned, caught her foot on a DRD and stumbled. For a moment she teetered on the brink of the void. _A perfect solution,_ a part of her whispered invitingly. _Just fall. The pain will be gone then._

But she didn't fall. She caught herself and pulled back, regaining her balance instinctively. Around her, she became aware that something was happening. The floor was shaking; a low rumble reverberated around the chamber followed by an agonising, rolling cry that seemed to echo through every corner of the ship. Aeryn realised what it was almost at once. Moya was mourning the loss of her Pilot.

She ran. There was no consciousness to her flight, no direction, nothing but movement driven by a desperate urge to flee the leviathan's sorrow. But there was no escape. The song was everywhere, emanating from every inch of wall and floor, filling her head until it was ready to explode.She couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

_What have I done?_

And then John was there. He appeared out of nowhere, his eyes wide as he saw her, her arms extended towards her like a lifeline. But she cast him aside and ran on. He called after her, questions she dare not answer, the words lost to the wind and the leviathan's cries.

Other faces appeared, calling her name, but she spurned them all, shoving past in her haste to flee. Hands caught her, held her; she screamed, hysterical, fighting and struggling to be free but they proved too strong. John appeared once more, holding her face, talking to her, his eyes filled with concern, but she couldn't speak, only struggle and scream. She saw John glance up, saw Zhaan appear beside him and felt a sting and sudden hiss against her skin. Reality began to spin – the faces faded. Her struggles lessened, her scream felt far away. She watched the world fade to black to leave only a single thought.

__

_What have I done?_

END OF PART TWO.

   [1]: mailto:jesspallas@hotmail.com



	3. Part three

Time and Again – Part Three

Time and Again – Part Three.

By Jess Pallas.

Disclaimer; I don't own Farscape or any of its characters. Please don't sue me!

Feedback; Go on then! E-mail me at [jesspallas@hotmail.com][1]

Archiving; If you like it, take it. But please, let me know first.

Rating: Not sure what the standard is but I'd guess at PG and General. No naughtiness (sorry shippers) but there are a few fights.

Spoilers; Nothing major. References to TWWW, EFG and BABABTTF.

Timeframe; Season two, between DALD and OOTM.

Summary: Aeryn is given another chance to save Pilot's life.

Recap: Moya was boarded by a race with a vendetta against Pilot's species. Despite the efforts of Aeryn and D'Argo, he was poisoned and left facing a long and painful death. Afraid, he pleaded with Aeryn to help him die more quickly. Despite her own reluctance to relive her past, Aeryn did as he asked…

Pilot's chamber was dark. Steam rose all around her, filling the air, choking her, the stench of her actions all but overpowering her. The room was a ruin, the walkway pitted and twisted, the columns shattered, the consoles misaligned and glowing with an eerie red light that rose to fill her eyes, pushing the darkness back, to crouch and snap, held at bay in distant corners. A gun lay on the floor in front of her; her gun. It was smeared with purple blood.

"Aeryn."

She looked up and felt her heart stop dead. Illuminated in the fireball of scarlet light, Pilot met her eyes. But this was not the Pilot she remembered. This creature was a parody, a mockery of her dead friend, covered in veins of red that caught the light and seemed to writhe like snakes, his carapace and torso ripped and scarred by horrific burns. His face was contorted to a twisted grimace, his orange eyes not the gentle glow she knew but a burning fire of anger.

"Aeryn," he said again. His voice was filled with hate. "You killed me."

She couldn't respond. There was no denying the charge. Both knew that it was true. But she had not expected that his reaction would be this.

" I'm sorry." The words seemed insufficient. Pilot tensed angrily, his features twisting further, his clawed arms braced against his glowing console.

"Sorry?" he hissed, his voice filled with menace. She had never heard him sound this harsh, not even when he had tried to kill her. "You murder me and all you can say is you're sorry?"

"You asked me to!" The words were a scream. "You were in pain! You begged me!"

"I was delirious!" Pilot snapped back. "I didn't mean it! But no, you couldn't wait to finish what you started three cycles ago! You murdered me, peacekeeper, just like you murdered my predecessor and you don't even have the guts to admit it!"

"No!"

"Yes!" He seemed to be taking a perverse pleasure from watching her squirm. "Moya must adore you!" he drawled sarcastically. "You've single handedly disposed of her first two Pilots! What are you going to do to the next one? Have you made any plans or are you just going to improvise?"

"Pilot, please! I was trying to help you!"

He reared up behind his console, higher than he ever could have managed in life.

"You want to help? Then get off my ship! Get away from Moya! I don't want you hurting her any more! You cannot stay here, Aeryn Sun! My blood may run in your veins but it also runs through your fingers! You cannot stay on Moya with my blood on your hands!"

"But I don't…" Her voice trailed off. She looked down. Her fingers were stained purple.

She felt herself scream as the darkness burst apart.

************************************

Then suddenly it was all gone. Light flooded her vision; her scream echoed in her cell. She bolted upright, eyes wide as strong hands gripped her arm; she wheeled, fist half-raised.

"Whoa, whoa! Aeryn, take it easy! It's me John! It's okay!"

She hesitated, staring into his blue eyes. They were filled with concern. She felt sick, woozy, her head a waving mass of bright colours that seemed to flicker before her eyes. She was on her bed, she realised, in her cell-quarters. The walls around her seemed to dance. She couldn't even be sure this was real.

"What happened?" she gasped, shrugging to rise.

He held her down gently, trying to lower her back to horizontal but she pushed him away in irritation.

"You got kinda upset," he told her. "You wouldn't calm down so Zhaan had to slip you a sleep shot. You need to rest…"

"No!" She shoved him away roughly and stumbled out of bed. The room rocked; she couldn't be sure if it were Moya's lack of control, or her dizziness that caused it. Her dream ( had it been a dream?) whispered in her ears.

_ _

_You cannot stay here, Aeryn Sun._

She looked around her, her eyes glazed. Moya pulsed unhealthily, unnaturally, unguided. The colours rose and swamped her eyes.

_ _

_You cannot stay here…_

"I cannot stay here," she whispered, mouthing aloud the words that whispered in her head. "I have to go."

She moved forward towards the door, a dishevelled ghost of black and white, her eyes fixed, unseeing. John was by her side at once, catching hold of her.

"Where the Hell d'you think you're going?" he exclaimed.

She looked at him, without looking. "My Prowler."

He tried to pull her back towards the bed. "Not in this state you're not! Aeryn, what is the matter with you? First you're running all over Moya, screaming like your tail's on fire and now you want to go for a drive?"

She ignored him. "I have to leave Moya."

"What the Hell are you talking about?"

She stared at him blankly. "Pilot told me to go. He was right."

He looked confused but also wary. "Pilot?"

She did not answer. She gazed as though hypnotised, absent from all around her. Nothing was real here. The only reality was inside, in her mind where the whisper was speaking her fate.

You cannot stay… 

The words echoed through her mind. John didn't understand. He would never understand. No one else would either. Only Pilot would have and Pilot was…

Pilot was…

Cannot stay… 

"He said I cannot stay here and he was right. How can I live on Moya after all I have done?"

"All you've done? Aeryn!"

He didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but freedom. Nothing but escape. 

She began to walk away from him. John rushed forward, stepping into her path but she knocked him aside without a second thought. Shadows loomed into her path, two forms that blocked her way, swirling blue and red. D'Argo and Zhaan. They didn't matter. They were staring at her, their expressions a mixture of apprehension and suspicion. D'Argo was holding her pulse pistol.

She didn't have time for this.

"Get out of my way!" she ordered. "I have to leave!"

"Why?" D'Argo's voice was heavy with suspicion. "Because of this?"

He held up the pistol. Colours swirled. Purple seemed to wrap around the handle.

Purple blood….

Cannot… 

Irrational anger rose within her. She had to go! Why did they question her so?

She started to charge him. But she got no more than two steps when D'argo's tongue lashed out and sent her spinning back into darkness.

******************************

Voices.

But this time it was not the whisper of a vengful friend, but other, different voices. Talking out there. Talking about her. She struggled, rising from the dark abyss, struggling to the surface. Her mind felt clearer, sharper. The colours had receded. She could think again. She became aware of her body, lying horizontal. Back in bed. The voices were external, a little way away. Outside then, in the corridor. She knew them. Names came; John, D'Argo, Zhaan. Keeping her eyes closed, she listened.

"Are you sure?" John sounded incredulous.

"As sure as can be," Zhaan's cool, calm voice responded. "Pilot did not die from the poison."

"But do you really think Aeryn had something to do with it?"

D'Argo's impatient voice cut in. "Who else could it have been? He had no way to kill himself this quickly. He had to have had help. Aeryn was the last one in there, the last one to see him alive. Perhaps her… behaviour… earlier, was some kind of guilt…."

"Her being there does not mean she killed him! Maybe she just saw him die! Maybe she arrived just after he killed himself! Wouldn't you be upset if you walked in and found your friend had committed suicide?"

D'argo's patience was used up. "Crichton, he was shot! The corpse was steaming when we walked in! Pilot had no weapon of his own but the DRDs and they are not deadly enough to cause fatal injuries to a being of his size! Aeryn's pulse pistol was lying on the walkway! Face reality! What more proof do you need?"

John sighed. "But why? Why would she shoot him? He was her friend for Gods Sake! She wouldn't!"

"I don't know her motivation, John," Zhaan intervened softly. "There is only one person who does."

"You really think we should ask her? You saw the state she was in!"

"What choice do we have? We have to know the truth."

"You want the truth?"

All three wheeled as one. Aeryn stood before them, dark hair absorbing the flickering light like a void. Her expression was taut and anguished, her features filled with a mix of anger and remorse. Something frightening lurked in her sapphire eyes.

"I'll tell you the truth." Her voice was breaking, waves of emotion spilling forth to shatter in the air. "Yes. I killed him. There. That's what you all wanted to hear, isn't it? I went in there with my pulse pistol and I shot him and I kept shooting until he was dead!"

Shock registered on the features of her three crewmates but she ignored them, ploughing on.

"So there you have it! Everything you've ever thought badly about me; it's true! I'm a peacekeeper murderer, slaughterer of the defenceless, just like you all told me after Chiana found that frelling tape! So I'm sure you can see why I really can't stay here on Moya, considering what I've done to both of her Pilots! So if you don't mind, I will take my Prowler and go somewhere where I am not reminded at every turn of people I've killed in the past!"

Abruptly she swept passed them and out into the corridor, oblivious to the stunned silence she left behind. She walked without feeling, her mind a numb blank. She could feel Moya's unnatural rhythms beneath her feet, her lurches and flickering lamps, consequences of her actions that seemed to drive her faster towards the blessed sanctity of space. Her senses were plagued with reminders of Pilot – the clamshells nestled in their corners, lost looking DRDs bereft of his guidance, vents and chambers hidden from view through which his now lifeless tendrils ran. Despite the too brief time he had been aboard her, Moya had been very much his ship and everything about her was a memory of him.

Which was why she couldn't stay.

The maintenance bay opened out before her, her Prowler a jet stab against the golden hanger. She rushed towards it almost eagerly, her escape from herself and what she'd done, her way out of this nightmare reality that threatened to tear her sanity to shreds. She longed for its embrace and the solitude it offered, away from questions, voices, recriminations and whispers in her mind. She longed to be alone.

A hand caught her arm, jerking her back from herself. She turned almost absently to find John's blue eyes and breathless face staring at her.

"Aeryn, what the frell is going on?" he gasped. "Were you serious back there?"

"Completely."

"You shot Pilot."

"Yes."

His face was filled with confusion. "Why?"

She met his eyes. "He asked me to."

There was a long pause. Slow realisation dawned across John's features.

"He asked you to shoot him," he repeated. "And you did."

Aeryn felt what remained of her composure slipping. She didn't want her friends to hate her. She didn't want John to hate her. She wanted him to understand. She suddenly felt a desperate urge to explain.

"He was in pain," she said softly. "He was losing his link to Moya. He was desperate, John. He didn't want it to drag on for weekens. He was my friend and he was suffering. How could I leave him like that?"

He nodded. "So you pulled the plug."

"I was trying to help him. But now I can't live with myself."

Slowly, almost tentatively, he reached out and brushed his fingers against her cheek. "I've said this before, baby. You can't blame yourself. You did the right thing. Aeryn, we all saw what was done to him, what he was going through. We all understand. You don't have to go. No one here is going to chase you away."

For a moment, she almost conceded, almost slipped into his embrace and let him take her back. But her eyes fixed upon the clamshell above his head, gaping and empty, with no one at the other end.

Again.

Because of her.

Gently, she pushed away his fingers, stepping back from him as she slowly shook her head. 

"No you don't, John," she said. "It isn't you or D'Argo or Zhaan or anyone else I'm running from. It's myself, my past, the things I've done here. I see Moya and I see pain. Everywhere I look I'm reminded of it all. I have to go."

"Are you coming back?" There was desperation in his eyes and more. If this had been any other time…

"I don't know," she answered honesty. "Maybe not."

"I'll miss you." There was a pause. For an instant, it seemed he might add something but the words seemed to stick.

She nodded. "I know."

Turning away, she pulled herself up into the cockpit of the Prowler, enclosing herself in its reassuring stillness. As the shield lowered, she caught a glimpse of John at the console, opening the hanger door. He looked up and met her eyes.

The cockpit slammed shut.

She fired the engines. A few microts later she had cleared the docking bay and arched out into the enclosing blanket of stars.

******************************

The planet was warm; not enough to be a danger but certainly enough to make her feel uncomfortable. White stone buildings edged with colonnades rose around her, reflecting the silver waves of the lazy pool that ripples in the centre of the large paved plaza. Neatly trimmed silver leaved trees were scattered at random, seeming almost to grow from the very stone and in their shade wandered pale-skinned natives, with their white robes and silver hair, strolling serenely by, pausing only to cast a glance at the unusual darkness of their visitor. There was a neatness to this place, a kind of order, in which no thing was out of place but her.

Aeryn had never intended to come to the commerce planet. She had left Moya in her hurry, with only the vaguest idea of what she intended to do, knowing only that she needed to get far, far away from her former home. But barely a few arns later, she was here, on the very planet they were aiming for. In her haste, she had left behind all her possessions including her pulse pistol. All she had were the clothes she wore. She had brought neither food nor barter material. By the time she had realised this, it was too late. She couldn't return to Moya. There were no other commerce planets for lightcycles in any direction – a fact that had got her into this Hezmana of a situation in the first place - and certain none that could be reached in a Prowler low on fuel with a pilot with no provisions. So she was left with no choice but to set down, a black void in a sea of silver and white and hope that something would come up. Her random wanderings had brought her here, to this plaza, the centre of the city. As far as she could tell, the buildings around her were all temples of some kind, representing a diversity of religious branches. White robed priests wandered across the stones, engraved silver medallions around their necks denoting which temple they called home. She would normally have avoided such a place but for an over heard conversation in a market. The priests will help anyone, they had said. No one in sorrow or need is ever turned away. They detect your troubles and seek you out.

It sounded like religious dren; under any other circumstances, Aeryn would have dismissed it without a second thought. But she was desperate. She wanted very badly to get away from here before Moya arrived and John found her. She knew she couldn't go back and she wasn't sure she could face saying goodbye all over again. She was close enough to cracking up as it was. She just wanted to find what she needed and go, to start afresh and put the past behind her. But still, her thoughts lay with the leviathan and her crew and she found herself wishing with all her heart that things could have been different.

"You look lost, my child."

She turned sharply at the unfamiliar voice. A silver haired man stood before her, a priest of one of the multitude of temples, his silver medallion gleaming in the bright sun. His voice was soft, his eyes warm. His smile was welcoming.

"I've never been here before," she said, slightly uncertain. What did he want?

His eyes met here, filled with depths of meaning.

"That isn't what I meant."

Gently he reached forward and took her hand.

"I am Jaul," he introduced himself. "High cleric of the Order of Temparis. Would you care to visit our temple?"

She shook her head. She knew she was vulnerable at the moment, and she could only assume that vulnerability was written raw upon her. Religion feeds on the weak, her peacekeeper teachers had told her. She was not going to be taken.

"I'm not religious," she told him. _I wish he would let go of my hand!_ "And I'm happy that way."

He smiled in mild amusement. "You don't have to follow our practices to benefit from them. My Order has never sought to convert the masses; only to help those in need of us." He squeezed her hand gently. Sympathy – sincere sympathy – shone from his eyes. "I approach you only because I feel you may be in great need of our assistance."

Aeryn almost pulled away, almost yanked her hand free and put this strange man and his cryptic words behind her. But something stayed her. There was understanding in his face, compassion, comprehension even, as though he knew of the horror that had befallen her but passed no judgement. There was sympathy in his gaze but more, there was a glimmer of hope, a call to undo what was done, to change things past and gone. It almost seemed as though he was offering a chance to put things right.

She did not remove her hand.

*****************************

The Temple of the Order of Temparis was a spectacular white columned building at the head of the plaza, flanked by trees but rising above them like a monolith, a vast sweep of steps guiding visitors to its decorative entrance. The interior was a magnificent as the façade. A huge hall opened out, its walls painted in a variety of red, greens and blues, its floor tiled in a patchwork of red and silver tiles. There were no benches or seats of any kind – this was not a temple of services but a place to come and go at will. The walls were lined with a series of curved alcoves, each containing a white plinth. Resting atop these were a succession of identical glowing orbs filled with a shifting silver light that caught the eye and held it, sending a shiver to the soul. Priests and public alike formed long queues before these wonders, waiting their turns with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Once first, they would step alone into the alcove, clasp the ball and peer into its depths, whispering something. The orb would pulse and swirl, the alcove would fill with light. Then the watcher would step away, with a strange expression, sometimes joyous, sometimes melancholy but always fulfilled.

Aeryn stared at the people with interest as Jaul led her down the hall towards the head of the temple, a dais with a curiously unadorned altar behind which, half-hidden, lay a silver-curtained arch. 

"What are they doing?" she asked at last, curiosity getting the better of caution. "What are those things?" 

If she was expected to stare into one of those things, she wanted to know what she was getting herself into. After all she still knew next to nothing about this man and his Order and any other time, she wouldn't have even considered being here. 

Jaul smiled. "The orbs are the lifeblood of our Order. We call them our windows of time." Aeryn looked at him sharply but he didn't seem to notice. " We are Temporalists. People come to our temple to relive their past, to watch it, to catch a glimpse of times that made them happy, look into the eyes of lost loved ones and seek closure on their lives. They experience it whole, step back into their old skin and their memories and live again their past in an instant. They change nothing, but they experience old joy, old love as if it were all new. It can revitalise relationships, remind of things forgotten, bring new hope for the future by examining the past." He gazed around proudly. "When we discovered we could dip our fingers into the past, we gave people a great gift, the chance to watch their lives again and learn from what they found there. We help people recapture parts of themselves they'd thought had long been lost."

Aeryn felt suddenly distressed. She got the feeling she may have made a very bad mistake coming here. The very last thing she needed right now was to go rooting around in her past. That was exactly what she was trying to get away from. She turned to Jaul, her eyes intense.

"Is that what you brought me here to do? To watch my past? If you did, you've wasted your time. My past is the last thing I need to see!"

"Watching the past can ease it," Jaul said softly. "But that is not why I brought you here. Your wounds are recent and cut deep within your heart; you are not yet ready for closure. But if they are as recent as my sense implies, then my Order may have something more to offer you."

His voice was low; quietly he drew her away from the crowds. "This is not something we do often," he explained. "And we are very careful as to whom we offer it. I am a mild telepath and I have spent much of my life honing my skill in an attempt to help distinguish those who should only look and those are suitable to…" He paused. Aeryn waited. Just what was all this rhetoric building up to?

Jaul took a breath. "Through the orbs, we allow people a view of the timestream, a chance to look at the past but not to participate, not to effect it in any way. For many centuries, this was all we were capable of. But recently, we have taken a further step. We have gained physical access to the timestream."

Aeryn's heart skipped a beat. A part of her had realised just what this might be leading to. Was he suggesting what she thought he was?

"By accessing the timestream, we can enter time itself." Jaul voice was hushed, but there was a hint of awe and pride as well. "Not by much of course – time infractions are extremely dangerous; to go further back than a single solar day is so harrowing on the body and soul of the individual that the pressure will rip them apart." He looked down. "One of those things you learn the hard way, I'm afraid." He looked sad but continued. "But we can offer that single day as a second chance to those who wish – who need - to take it. We use our mental gifts to assess an individual, to find the source of their pain and decide if their infraction will improve or distort the timelines of others. I sense yours will improve it. That is what I am offering you – to live the last solar day again, to correct your mistakes. Do you accept?"

Aeryn could barely breathe. She was stunned by the vastness, the enormity of what she had just been offered. Was it possible? All her wishing and dreaming, her desperate desire for another chance; had it really come true?

A moment later, her pragmatic side took hold of the idea. Rather than dismissing it, it ran with it, embraced it as the rest of her had, wanting it too strongly to cast it aside as nonsense. She'd seen stranger things in her time since leaving the peacekeepers and John's experience with the black hole fragment proved that leaping about in time was not as impossible as it sounded. Her mind skipped back, calculating. One day – how much would that give her? It would be close, just before the Rani boarded Moya but that might just be enough. Enough to save Pilot. Enough to get her life back.

A sudden hope welled up inside of her.

"I accept," she said calmly.

He nodded with a smile. "Good. I thought you would. This way then. The sooner we do this, the more time you will have."

Aeryn followed him quickly, swept up in an uncharacteristic euphoria that she battened down firmly and held inside. This was no time for foolish grinning. This was serious. This was no free ride he was offering, no automatic guarantee of a happy ending. If this was going to work out, she was going to have to make it.

Jaul led her up the altar steps and around to the silver curtained door.

"This is the way to the inner sanctum," he said, politely stepping back and drawing the curtain as he motioned her inside. "It's where we keep the gate to the timestream."

Quickly she ducked inside. A short dark passage lay before her, leading to a small, silver panelled room, but these vanished into insignificance compared to what lay at the chamber's centre. A column of glittering crystal arced from floor to ceiling, a red jewel of infinite facets imbedded in one side. Through its heart flowed a gushing, swirling torrent, a river of silver, twisted strands of starlight dancing with flickering pulses. Beyond this awesome sight, all but hidden in an alcove, lay a pile of wide silver wristbands, fixed with a circle of red jewels, surrounding a larger, redder gem that glowed, pulsing softly with the rhythm of the timestream.

Jaul guided her gently inside, smiling at her hypnotic fascination with the silver light.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said, his own feelings plain as she crossed the room and gathered up a wristband from the alcove. "Takes the breath away." He returned and held the jewelled armlet out to her. It flickered softly, invitingly.

"This is your amulet," he told her. "Your link back to this temple. It'll keep you from getting lost in the timestream. Put it on."

Aeryn obeyed almost instinctively, slipping it over his fist. It slid gently into place, lose on her arm but them tightened abruptly, squeezing the skin as it secured itself in place to cover most of her lower arm. The peacekeeper tugged at it, mildly alarmed but it was firmly sealed in place.

"Don't worry," Jaul reassured her quickly. "That's just so you don't lose it. Be very careful though. If you damage the central jewel, you'll disrupt the flow of time. And don't try and take it off. When it's purpose is fulfilled, it will release of its own accord."

He touched her arm, guiding her curious fingers away from her new accessory and returning her attention to his words. "Now listen carefully," he said. "What I am about to lay out for you is extremely important. The amulet provides you with safe access to the timestream and will take you back the requisite day. It will not send you independently back; rather it will slot you back into your own body at one day in the past. It can do this three times but no more, so if you fail the first time, all is not lost. You can try again. But the amulet will not allow more than three incursions; this causes too great a temporal disruption and can be damaging to the traveller. Once the three times are lost, that is it. You will be forbidden to travel again. Ever."

He took hold of the amulet and raised her arm. "Now if your infraction doesn't unfold as you'd wish, simply touch your fingers to the centre jewel and press down. This will erase the altered timeline and return you here. If the new timeline is good, then it must be secured. You do that by returning the amulet here, to the inner sanctum and placing it into the timestream. But this is vital; you must return the amulet _within the day_. If it is not returned here by the equivalent point of your entry into the timestream, the timeline will become unstable and collapse and you will be returned to the original state of affairs. By returning the amulet, in a way, you will be making the journey again, although you won't be aware of it. If it is not returned in time, you will never have gone back, the paradox asserts itself and the timeline cannot hold, restoring the original order." He paused and smiled. "I know it's a lot to take in in a short space of time. Are you clear though?"

Aeryn nodded. He had taken care to absorb every word. She intended to do this right.

"I understand," she said.

Jaul smiled. "Good. Now remember – only you will be aware of the repeat in time. All others will be oblivious – even me. If you hit the amulet or miss the deadline, you will return here and I will be waiting. If you return successful, I will not know you but I will congratulate you on your new life." He moved over to the crystal column, placing one hand over the red jewel. It throbbed at his touch. "Are you ready?"

The words struck home. She remembered the last time she had heard them, slipping unbidden from her own lips as she levelled her gun at Pilot.

Not this time.

She could feel her heart pounding. It had all happened so fast that she could barely comprehend what she was doing. An arn ago she had been alone and destitute. But now she was here, in this silver chamber, given three chances to go back in time and save the life of her best friend. Would she succeed where she had failed before? Was she ready to face that awful day again?

"I am," she said.

Jaul's hand closed over the jewel. There was a humming and a shimmer – one half of the crystal column dissolved into nothing as though it had never been at all. A rush of wind tornadoed around the room as the timestream was opened to the air. Her hair whipped back, fluttering in her face as silver sparkles glistened in her eyes. The speed of the flow was staggering, mind numbing. For a moment, she couldn't move.

But then she drew herself up, braced her heart and mind and stepped forward to lose herself in the flood of silver…

*****************************************

Light.

It flashed against her eyelids, waking her with a start. For a moment she was engulfed in a dizzying wash of disorientation. She had no memory of sleeping – so why had her eyes been closed? What the frell had Jaul done?

Jaul.

She remembered then; the temple, the timestream, falling into an overwhelming rush of silver. She glanced down; the amulet glimmered eerily in the ever-changing light. She shook her head to clear it, taking in her surroundings. Golden walls gleamed, shadow and light both in the mad, inconsistent pulsing of the wall lamps. A low, gyrating hum, an unnatural rhythm, surged in the air. 

Moya.

The Rani.

They were being boarded.

Aeryn felt a rush of disappointment. Frell! Had so long passed since the attack? Was this all she could get from a day?

But there was no time for self-pity. If this was what she had then she would take it. It was more than she had had before. What mattered was that Pilot was alive. 

She intended to see that he stayed that way.

The peacekeeper scrambled out of bed, snatching up her pulse pistol. She didn't even bother with her boots this time; barefoot, she raced into the corridor. The air felt heavy, draining, pressing down on her, holding her back as she hurled herself down tiers and through passageways, through the haunted pulse of lights and whisper of sounds not quite natural. It was an effort to move, an effort to breathe, but she did both, pushing the world away from her in a desperate bid to do better than before.

A loud clanking sounded ahead of her, punctuated by angry roars; D'Argo. Aeryn didn't bother with questions or pleasantries this time. She barely even slowed down as the Luxan saw her, opened his mouth to greet her. She simply grabbed his arm and dragged him roughly across the corridor.

"This way, now!" she shouted. As D'Argo struggled, protesting, her anger rose.

"We don't have time to argue it, D'Argo! Pilot's in danger!"

Thankfully, he stopped resisting, falling in behind her, although he did rather indignantly shake his arm free.

"Where are we going?" he exclaimed, Qualta blade gleaming in his fist. "Surely if Pilot's in danger, we should…"

"Here." Aeryn cut him off as she ducked through a small entry and pulled herself into a chute. "This leads to the ventilation passage above Pilot's chamber. When we get there, follow my lead. We'll be outnumbered, but we can take them. Our first priority has got to be Pilot's safety. He'll be helpless so we have to make certain they don't get that syringe anywhere near him!"

She hauled herself into the passageway above and turned to find D'Argo staring at her.

"Syringe?" he growled. "What the Hezmana are you talking about? And how do you know we'll be outnumbered?"

"Never mind how I know!" Aeryn was not in the mood for in depth explanations. She left him struggling to drag himself clear and hurried ahead. Beyond the grate, she could hear the tell-tail sounds of a struggle, grunts, shouting, Pilot's indignant cries and the clanking of chains. She smiled grimly. Her prompt reactions had saved her time; she had arrived before the Rani had had time to subdue their captive. This time there was no pause for reconnaissance, no level assessment of the situation; she was already reasonably certain of what she'd find. Ignoring D'Argo's cry, she kicked down the grate and leapt into the chamber.

The scene she entered was one of confusion. Most of the Rani had surrounded Pilot and were fighting to hold him down. The navigator was not going quietly however. Despite the fact that two of his arms had been pinned – a Rani was struggling to chain them – he was using the other two freely, sending one of his attackers sailing back onto the walkway. But one of the Rani had not joined the melee, a shorter, more authoritative looking figure with a clinical expression. Her lurked just beyond the fringe of the fight, prepping the syringe-gun as he did so.

It was clear that they had not expected a challenge – three Rani were down before they even realised what had happened. Aeryn surged forward, D'Argo at her side, her pulse pistol blazing red as she carved a path towards her friend. The Rani abandoned their efforts with Pilot in favour of self-preservation and turned to defend themselves. Needle darts saturated the air; Aeryn ducked, dodged and rolled, the needles glancing of the leather of her vest – luckily none stuck. Already her opponents were falling back – the syringe wielder had disappeared completely. The peacekeeper felt a surge of adrenalin. They were going to do it!

But then, everything fell apart.

Suddenly D'Argo cried out, pain in his voice. She wheeled just in time to see the Luxan stumble, clutching at his chest; the tattooed skin was riddled with needles. His knees buckled beneath him, his eyes glazed and distant as he staggered sideways and all at once was gone, tumbling into the void to vanish without a trace.

"D'ARGO!!!!" Aeryn screamed, twisting, reaching, trying desperately to catch him but he was already gone, lost to dark oblivion. Even as she stared into the abyss in stunned disbelief, she heard Pilot suddenly gasp. She turned to see the scene she'd dreaded; Pilot slumped forward against his consoles in pain, the empty syringe-gun protruding from his neck. The clinical Rani hadn't fled the fight at all; he'd simply slipped around behind the navigator and injected him from there. He saw her distress, her anger and met her eyes.

He smiled.

For a moment she was paralysed with fury and that moment was enough. She heard a hiss, felt a cluster of pinprick pain in her shoulder. She looked down; a cluster of needled were imbedded in her bare skin. She had paid for her instant of distraction.

The world spun; she felt her legs give way. Colours danced before her eyes, mocking Rani faces laughed and taunted her. Pilot's murderer continued to smile. She crumpled to the floor, her body convulsing, her vision blurred. Guttural Rani voices filled her ears; darkness was rising all around her. There was no colour now nothing but the void and a glimmer of red on the very edge of her consciousness. 

The amulet.

Must press the amulet…

Must press…

With the last of her strength, Aeryn reached out and closed her shaking fingers on the jewel.

*******************************

Silver filled her eyes, blinding her – her hair whipped around her face, driven by the winds of time. Her vision cleared; she found herself staring at gleaming brightness.

Jaul watched her through a screen of silver light. His face was sad.

"No luck?" he said gravely.

She shook her head, the movement dizzying. "I need more time."

"I can't give it to you."

"You have to!" She felt her voice rising. "What you've given me isn't enough! It only takes me back to where I started, where I failed from before! I can't do anything with that!" Once the Rani reach his chamber, that's it! I have to get there before them!" Her voice lowered to a plea. "I don't need much more. Just a little. Please."

Jaul's face was uncertain, but his eyes were sympathetic. "I can give you a little more," he conceded reluctantly. " It isn't much – a few hundred microts at most. But that will take you to the very limit; it may affect your mind, damage your judgement. You must be careful to keep control of your emotions."

"A few hundred is enough!" she smiled. "I'll be careful; I've had a lot of practice with emotional control. Thank you, Jaul."

He smiled back. "Thank me when I don't recognise you."

Gently he reached forward and touched the glowing jewel. The amulet pulsed in response. Silver light rose and flooded her eyes….

*********************************

Aeryn awoke with a start. Dizziness filled her brain; she touched her skull to steady it. The spinning stooped, the rocking of the room slowed to a crawl. Her eyes cleared and she looked around.

It was still. No motion but Moya's gentle pulse inflicted itself on the cell, her rhythms placid, regular and strong. The lights were dim but stable. She felt herself smile.

Thank you Jaul, indeed.

Well, she had the time and she wasn't going to waste it. The peacekeeper vaulted to her feet, snatching up her pulse pistol in one hand and she tapped on her comm with the other, praying that it would respond. There was no hiss and she almost laughed in relief.

"Pilot! Seal off the docking bay and the hanger doors! John, D'Argo, Zhaan, meet me in the maintenance bay now! We're about to be boarded!"

A flurry of questions flooded her comm but abruptly the words were sliced off, to be replaced by the too-familiar menacing hiss. Aeryn was already running, straining every muscle and sinew in her body as she desperately hurled herself through the ship. She had to intercept the Rani before they reached Pilot's chamber or she would be forced to watch the whole gruesome sequence of event play out again. Her breath burned her throat as she flung herself through the labyrinth of Moya's corridors, acutely aware that the lights had begun to flicker and that the leviathan's sounds were contorting into that disconcerting hum. Tense and braced for combat, she rounded the corner and almost collided with John, Chiana and D'Argo. All started violently, weapons half-raised before dropping back with a collective sigh of relief.

"Aeryn!" John exclaimed breathlessly. "What the frell's..."

"The Rani. They're boarding. We have to stop them before they get to Pilot." Aeryn had no time to indulge the human's confusion. Her mind still seemed to rock; her vision seemed strangely fuzzy. She shook her head to clear it, biting back a surge of annoyance. 

"How the frell do you know?" Chiana protested shrilly but Aeryn fixed her with a steely glare.

"No time," she snapped. "Come on."

They obeyed despite the confusion that filled their faces, rushing after the peacekeeper as she bolted down the corridor. The strobing of Moya's lights cast their faces in gold and black, the sound of their breath a stark contrast to the pounding of their hearts.

Ahead the passage wound snakelike towards the maintenance bay. All at once, Aeryn pulled up dead, her hand raised for silence. Beyond the doorway, there was movement.

Quietly, Aeryn checked the pulse chamber of her pistol, resisting an urge to hurl around the corner and lay waste to all beyond. Far back in her mind, she was aware that something was happening to her, that her mind had lost the warriors sharpness to be replaced by a fog of emotional turmoil. Jaul's words whispered in her ears; _it may affect your mind, damage your judgement. You must be careful to keep control of your emotions. _She realised that the trip in the timestream had stripped her of her clarity and she fought desperately to stay in command of her thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, she motioned to the others and started forward on cat's feet. The sound of breaking glass and metal carnage came from ahead and the low, guttural growl of Rani voices. Aeryn braced her weapon, finger poised on the trigger and drew herself up as her companions came to her back. A flurry of looks passed between them. Then guns extended, they wheeled around the corner and came face to face with a detachment of Rani.

It was hard to tell who was the most surprised. Aeryn jerked up short, inches from the foremost of the scarlet aliens as she realised all at once what had happened. She recognised their faces – this was the detachment that had been dispatched to dispose of Pilot. She reacted at once, her reflexes an instant quicker than her opponent's, smashing her fist into his face, sending him reeling back into his companions. John and D'Argo appeared to flank her, Chiana a step behind as the Rani fell back, needle-guns braced. Aeryn saw the wicked glint of points and her mind flashed back – _D'Argo tumbling into the void, the pricking of her skin and sudden darkness._

"Don't let the needles touch you!" she cried out to her friends as she opened fire, shooting not the Rani but their weapons, exploding the needle-guns in a hail of darts that took out their own instead of the enemy. The Rani, still barely aware of what had happened, dropped back into the maintenance bay as they scrambled for cover.

The chamber was a mess - broken bottles, crushed herbs, toppled benches and melted guns, Zhaan immobile on the floor – but Aeryn had no time to note it as she ducked behind a fallen table to escape a hail of needles. John appeared at her side, breathless but alert, flashing her a quick grin as he rattled off a series of shots at the enemy. Aeryn rose with him, showering their assailants with red bolts of raw energy, risking a glance across to the far side of the room where D'Argo and Chiana had taken refuge behind a pile of boxes, dragging the unconscious Zhaan back with them. Another needle volley drove her back under cover; she ducked down beside John, half-crouched as she met his eyes. There was a pause; both nodded. Then together, they came up shooting.

The Rani assault collapsed. A lone Rani darted from cover; with a roar and a sweep of an arm, he rushed in the direction of the hanger door. A small black device in his palm flashed; the door slid open to reveal a large, bat-winged spacecraft, gleaming blood red, it's gangway already extended. Figures in the dark entry laid down covering fire as their comrades fled for safety.

But Aeryn wasn't paying attention to that. Her eyes were fixed upon the Rani leader, beckoning his men to safety. He was smaller than the others, his face cold and clinical. She knew him.

He had smiled.

Her last memory before blacking out was his smile, taunting her, mocking her as he killed her friend and herself without so much as a blink. She felt the fury that had been cut off by her dying welling up again, rising to fill her brain with flames of glowing red. He was going to escape after all he'd done, unpunished, free to act, to kill again. She was not going to let it be that easy. That monster had killed Pilot in front of her, not once but twice and there was no way she was going to let him escape without some kind of retribution.

Ignoring John's warning cry, she vaulted free of cover and made chase, picking off the fleeing Rani one by one with well aimed volleys. Her eyes fixed on her target; he looked up and saw her as he bolted for the gangway, his expression apprehensive.

She smiled.

He flailed to the ground just shy of his ship, tossed across the docking bay by the force of the blast that ripped him of his life. His weapon slipped from his hands, clattering as it rolled and rattled to a halt. Aeryn's eyes fell upon it; her breath caught in her throat.

It was the syringe-gun.

A sudden burst of fury overwhelmed her senses. Heedless of the danger, she rushed forward. The Rani ship was firing its jets, the last of its men dragged aboard as the gangway lifted, but Aeryn was oblivious to it all, blind to all but her objective. The syringe-gun lay before her; the weapon that has twice taken the life of her friend and ruined her life lay finally at her mercy. With a vengeant cry, she lifted the butt of her pistol and smashed it apart, shattering the glass and spilling red liquid across the floor.

She felt good.

Victorious, she rose and turned just in time to see the wing of the Rani ship sweeping towards her. There was no time to dodge. The metal impacted with her face solidly, flinging her head back and sending her tumbling into blackness.

END OF PART THREE.

   [1]: mailto:jesspallas@hotmail.com



	4. Part four

Time and Again – Part Four

Time and Again – Part Four.

By Jess Pallas.

Disclaimer; I don't own Farscape or any of its characters. Please don't sue me!

Feedback; Go on then! E-mail me at [jesspallas@hotmail.com][1]

Archiving; If you like it, take it. But please, let me know first.

Rating: Not sure what the standard is but I'd guess at PG and General. No naughtiness (sorry shippers) but there are a few fights.

Spoilers; Nothing major. References to TWWW.

Timeframe; Season two, between DALD and OOTM.

Summary: With only one chance left to save Pilot, Aeryn must make a terrible decision.

Recap: Moya was boarded by a race with a vendetta against Pilot's species. Despite the efforts of Aeryn and D'Argo, he was poisoned and left facing a long and painful death. Afraid, he pleaded with Aeryn to help him die more quickly. Despite her own reluctance to relive her past, Aeryn did as he asked. Consumed by guilt she fled the ship, where a priest offered her three chances to go back in time and live the day again. Her first attempt failed badly but on her second she managed to chase the Rani off the ship, only to be knocked unconscious by the wing of their fleeing vessel…

The pounding of her head penetrated the rainbow grey of unconsciousness, dragging her back into herself. Her face throbbed without mercy; her neck felt as though it had been snapped in two. She groaned.

"Aeryn? Honey, can you hear me?"

A shadow fell across her eyelids; a warm hand surrounded hers. Reluctantly, tenderly, she opened her eyes to stare deep into Johns.

His face was a wash of relief – he didn't look as though he'd slept in arns. He was holding her hand, smiling like an idiot as he gazed down at her in eyes bloodshot and emotional.

"Thank God!" he breathed with a heartfelt sigh. "For a while there, I thought I'd lost you baby!"

She blinked; even that slight motion hurt. 

"John," she said. She couldn't seem to focus her thoughts, the pain a barrier to memory and reason. There was something she was supposed to be doing but for the life of her, she couldn't recall what it was. She glanced groggily around. She was in the maintenance bay, or what was left of it after the fight, laid out on a bench under a gold sheet. Her face was incredibly sore and pounded painfully beneath a heavy swath of bandage; it felt as though half her skull had caved in. She reached up and touched the cloth covering tenderly, wincing at the little explosions of agony that even that slight contact caused.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." John gripped her fingers and gently eased them away. "Zhaan says you did some serious damage up there. She told me to make sure you leave it alone until she got back from the commerce planet with the right medicines." He grinned. "Whatever possessed you to do a kamikaze run and head butt their ship? I know your head is hard, Aeryn, but my money's on the sheet metal every time!"

She wasn't listening. Something he had said had struck a chord in her memory.

"Commerce planet?" Her elusive purpose flitted through her mind but was gone before she could catch it.

"Yeah, the one we were heading for. You've been out for most of the day."

"Most of the day?" A cold feeling settled in her chest, a contrast to the heat of her wounded face. She knew this was bad. But why? Why was it?

"Commander Crichton?"

The familiar voice made her heart stop. John turned away, still holding her hand, to face the clamshell in the corner.

"Yeah, Pilot?"

The imager shimmered to life; the purple hologram gazed down at them.

"Zhaan reports she has found the necessary ingredients and is returning to Moya. She wants an update on Aeryn's condition."

Memories rushed through her; all at once the floodgates breached and everything came back. She pushed up onto her elbows, her eyes fixed on the gleaming silver-red of the amulet.

Frell! How long had she been unconscious? How long did she have to confirm the timeline?

"Hey, now wait a microt, miss Sun!" John laid his free hand on her shoulder. "You lie back down there. You're in no condition to be up and about!"

She ignored him, turning to the clamshell.

"Officer Sun," Pilot acknowledged. "How are you feeling?"

"Never mind me, Pilot. Are you all right?"

He looked confused. "Pardon?"

"Are you all right?" she repeated impatiently.

"I am fine," he answered, obviously perplexed. "Is there any reason I would not be?"

"The Rani…"

John caught her gaze. "They never got passed the maintenance bay, thanks to you. By the way, I meant to ask; how did you know they were coming?"

She didn't hear him, her mind racing. Pilot was alive, the Rani gone. She had done it! But it would all be for nothing if she didn't get back to the temple and confirm the changes to the timeline.

"Pilot, how long has it been since the Rani tried to board?" she exclaimed, sitting up as she brushed aside John's efforts to make her lie back down.

"Um… a little more than twenty-three arns," Pilot looked concerned. "Officer Sun, are you…"

"Is my Prowler ready for launch?" she cut in, moving to climb down from the bench. John immediately stepped in.

"Your Prowler? Are you nuts? Aeryn, you were out cold for the best part of a day! You're in no condition to go joyriding!"

He grabbed her shoulders and she winced. Guiltily he released his grip and that instant was enough. He never saw the pantak jab coming. She caught him as he fell and laid him gently on the floor.

"I'm sorry, John," she whispered. She rose quickly to face the astonished Pilot.

"My Prowler?"

"Aeryn…"

She gazed at him with pleading eyes. Without his help, she would not be leaving Moya. Ironically, he could be the greatest hindrance to her saving his life.

"I can't explain now but I will later. You have no idea how much is at stake here." She swallowed his emotions, desperate for him to agree.

"Pilot," she said. "Please."

He sighed but then nodded. "The Prowler is primed and ready. Take care. Your health is not good."

She smiled in sheer relief. "Thank you, Pilot."

It took her a matter of microts to board her ship. Pilot continued to co-operate, opening the hanger door. In moments she was free and flying. Space hurtled by on either side, the stars streaks of silver that reminded her of the timestream. The planet filled her view screen – she cut down through the atmosphere like a knife, slicing her way towards the surface and the temple city. Towers and columns appeared below, a sprawl of white and silver. She swooped in low, ignoring all beacons on air traffic zones, skimming over the rooftops of the city as tiny figures beneath her gaped at her audacity. The plaza opened out before her; she wheeled in, silver figures scattering from her path as the Prowler touched down gently. She blew the hatch, her blood running pain like fire through her veins, her head screaming louder even than the voices of protest of the priests. She ignored them all, pushing free of the indignant crowd, her eyes fixed on the temple of the Order of Temparis. The amulet pulsed on her wrist, a silent warning; she could feel the timeline starting to disintegrate around her. She forced her agonised body to a desperate run, pushing herself to the outer limits of her pain. She reached the steps, clearing three at a time as she scrambled desperately to get inside. Ahead of her, his eyes fixed on the amulet, she caught a glimpse of Jaul.

Then silver streaks split the air; the world seemed to crumble, to disintegrate around her. She felt her spirit yanked away as the timeline dissolved. She screamed in raw frustration.

"NO!!!!!"

Silver overwhelmed her eyes….

*********************************

The familiar hum of the timestream filled her ears. From beyond the glistening curtain, Jaul stared at her.

"Oh, dear," he said quietly.

Aeryn's expression was anguished. "I was so close! I was on the steps! I could see you! I saved him and I blew it, I made one stupid mistake…"

"Now, now!" Jaul stepped in quickly, saving her from further self-recrimination. 

"You still have one chance left. Learn from your mistakes! Use them to make this time work! I'll send you back to the same instant as before. Use your time wisely." He smiled. "I hope for your sake that the next time we meet, I do not know you. Farewell and good luck, my dear."

She nodded even as she braced herself. Last chance. She knew what to do now and what definitely not to. This time, she would succeed.

The timestream rose and swept her on her way…

***********************************

For the fourth time in as many days, Aeryn awoke with a start. But this time she was ready for the feeling, brushing the dizziness and disorientation aside. In microts she was upright, quickly taking in Moya's regular rhythms and stable lights. Her pulse pistol slotted into her hand as easily as it always did, the fingers of her other hand already pressed to the comm as she dashed from the room.

"Pilot, seal of the docking bay and lock your chamber! John, D'Argo, Chiana meet me outside the maintenance bay! Zhaan, get out of there! We're about to be boarded!"

Once again, there came a flurry of questions but once again, they were cut off sharply as the snakes hiss that denoted the arrival of the Rani rose to fill her ears. The lights dimmed and flickered; Moya's sounds began their unnerving transformation. Aeryn observed it all, so familiar, seen and experienced so many times before but now for what would be the final time.

_ _

_Last chance, Aeryn Sun. Don't waste it._

This time the appearance of John, Chiana and D'Argo came as no surprise. She didn't even slow her pace as she swept past them.

"Come on!" she ordered. "We don't have much time!"

"Aeryn, what…" John called out, following in spite of his confusion, but she cut him off.

"No time, John." She glanced back over her shoulder. "Don't ask how I know. Please, just trust me."

He was at her side, matching her stride for stride, pulse pistol held ready.

"With my life," he replied softly. "You say go; I go."

Despite all that was happening, all that lay ahead, all that lay behind, Aeryn couldn't keep herself from smiling.

Suddenly, from ahead, came the sound of pulse fire. Exchanging, a single glance, John and Aeryn sprinted down the corridor, D'Argo and Chiana at their heels. Zhaan appeared abruptly, backing down the corridor away from the maintenance bay, pulse rifle humming in her hands. Needle darts split the air around her; how she avoided being struck was a mystery. She glimpsed her shipmates and dropped back rapidly, gasping for air.

"They came out of nowhere!" she exclaimed. "If you hadn't warned me, Aeryn…"

There was no time for further talk. A squad of crimson Rani appeared abruptly from the corridor, needle guns braced and loaded.

"Back!" Aeryn roared and the others obeyed, ducking for cover behind the struts ofMoya's passage way, D'Argo and Chiana on the far side, John and Zhaan with Aeryn on the near.

"Don't let the needles touch you!" Aeryn shouted across; she saw D'Argo nod as he quickly converted his Qualta blade from sword to rifle. John was crouched ahead of her, already laying down fire as the Rani themselves retreated and made for cover a little way down the corridor. Aeryn caught a glimpse of more than a dozen faces, several ominously familiar. It was odd to find herself fighting against people she'd killed three times already.

Then suddenly, chillingly, she caught a glimpse of one face in particular, a smaller Rani, more senior, clinical and cold. He was casting glances back behind him, down the corridor into the dark beyond. The syringe-gun was nestled in his hands.

Aeryn went cold. Too late, she realised she had erred again. By falling back the way she had come, she had given the Rani free reign in the other direction; the direction of Pilot's chamber. They had no hindrance to reaching him and worse; they were between him and any protection. Already, she could see a group of Rani gathering to the rear, looking to make a break in the direction of their prey.

Frell!

She had to act and act now. There was no going forward; there were too many Rani and a frontal assault would only push them closer to Pilot. She needed to go around then, to cut across and stop them before they got to close. She glanced behind her to where Zhaan was kneeling – beside the Delvian was the entrance to an inner passage, a passage that if Aeryn recalled correctly, came out not far from Pilot's.

She knew then what she had to do. The Rani were gathering – she didn't have long. What did she have to work with? John and Zhaan. Well, they would have to do. She glanced almost plaintively across at D'Argo – she would have liked the big Luxan by her side but there was no way he could cross the corridor without serious risk to his life. She had seen him die once. She had no desire to see it again.

Abruptly, she rose to a half-crouch.

"D'Argo, Chiana!" she shouted. "Hold them!"

She saw the Luxan nod and turned her attention to John and Zhaan.

"We have to get between them and Pilot!" she exclaimed, gesturing to the entry. Zhaan took her meaning at once and quickly ducked inside. John looked confused for a moment but on seeing the Delvian disappear, he nodded his consent. Silently, he mouthed a three count. Then together, the human and the Sebacean came up firing and dropped back, dodging needles as they slipped out of sight.

The passage was dark and sinister, indistinguishable from a thousand others all over Moya but Aeryn led the way with confidence. If there was one thing she knew, it was her way around Moya. Whether it was her peacekeeper experience or Pilot's DNA, she had never been entirely sure, but she suspected it was both. Whatever its origin, it was coming in useful now.

The opening loomed ahead. Aeryn halted, raising her hand for silence. Ahead, beyond the wall, came the guttural sound of Rani voices. With a jerk of her head, she started forward, pulse pistol extended. A crimson Rani wandered into her line of sight, glancing over his shoulder as he beckoned his companions.

It was the last thing he ever did. Aeryn opened fire and he dropped like a stone, tumbling to the floor before his astonished companions. The peacekeeper leapt into the corridor, John a step behind, laying down a haze of fire that forced their enemies back. Caught totally by surprise, they were pinned down at the corner before they even knew what had happened. Aeryn felt an exultant buzz. This time she would not fail!

"Aeryn!" Zhaan's sharp exclamation jerked her to attention. "Look!"

She was pointing behind them. Aeryn turned her head to follow her gaze and felt her blood turn to ice.

A crimson figure was bolting down the corridor behind them. The syringe-gun was gripped in his hand.

Aeryn realised at once what had happened. Her victim had not been the vanguard but the second. By the time she had reached the corridor, one had passed her already.

"Cover me!" she shouted. She spun on her heel and raced after him, pulse pistol humming in her hand. She fired constantly on the fleeing Rani, but he was nimble and quick, dodging her shots and staying just too far ahead. He was making a beeline for Pilot's chamber. Aeryn's superior knowledge of the ship gave her nothing – he was equally well versed in leviathan schematics and besides they were too close to Pilot's now for any short cut to be effective. She wished she could warn Pilot somehow, give him a chance to be ready and defend himself but the comms were still no more than an evil hiss. She just prayed he would be strong enough to hold the Rani off until she was able to catch up.

The entrance to the Den appeared ahead, ringed by a sea of twitching yellow DRDs. The Rani raised his free hand out before him – in it he held the small, black device that Aeryn had seen him use before. _Is that how they manipulate Moya?_ She wondered. An instant later, she had an answer. The device flashed and all at once, the DRDs shut down en masse, bereft of life by a single click. The door lock released and swung open, pushing motionless droids from its path. The Rani vaulted over them and darted inside.

"Pilot, hold on!" Aeryn yelled at the top of her lungs. She was gasping for breath, her legs wobbling beneath her but she couldn't stop now, couldn't even slow. She cleared the DRDs in a single bound and rushed inside, gun outstretched. The Rani had just reached the console and was starting to climb towards an alarmed but angry Pilot. Aeryn's warning shot caused the alien to turn and Pilot took advantage of his distraction, sending him flying backwards with a well-aimed sweep of an arm. The Rani regained his footing quickly and turned to face Aeryn, a grim expression on his face. Aeryn levelled her gun at him, finger itching on the trigger.

"Drop your weapon NOW!!!" she roared. He didn't deserve this chance really, but he was still in close proximity to Pilot and she wanted that syringe-gun out of harm's way and destroyed. But the Rani made no move to drop it.

Instead, he smiled.

The black device flashed.

Her pulse pistol exploded.

If her reactions had been any slower, she would have been killed. But the telltale hum as the pulse chamber slipped into overload gave her a fractions warning and she flung the gun away from her just in time. The explosion lit up the chamber, brightening the dark void below. Behind her, a series of smaller explosions followed as several of the more heavily armed DRDs ignited as well. Her gun hadn't been the only casualty.

For a moment she was blinded by the flash, frozen in shock and in that moment, the Rani made his move. He wheeled around and scrambled onto Pilot's console, lunging for the navigator. Aeryn's vision cleared; she heard Pilot cry out as she saw what was happening. The peacekeeper wasn't having that. She dashed across the walkway even as Pilot, in last-ditch struggle, shoved his attacker back. She grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him to the ground but he reacted instantly with a slamming blow that sent her flying onto her back. Lights danced before her eyes; she lay, half-stunned, dark hair streaming like a waterfall over the gaping drop below. The Rani wheeled with astonishing speed, looming over her like a shadow of deepest night. There was a click; a long blade sprung from his wrist guard, glinting wicked red in the light from Pilot's consoles. Smiling with malicious triumph, he raised his hand to strike.

But then he lurched, staggering forward as Pilot's claw contacted solidly with his shoulder blades.

In his instant of distraction, Aeryn's head cleared. With lightning speed, she wrapped her legs around his knees and twisted hard, cleaving him sideways with all her might. His balance already failing, the Rani lost it entirely. Syringe-gun and black device tumbled from his grasp; with a scream, he dived headfirst into the abyss and vanished from sight.

There was a long moment of silence. Aeryn lay breathless on the floor, staring into the dark above her, barely able to believe what had just happened. Had she actually done it this time?

"Aeryn?"

Pilot's voice echoed above her. It made her smile. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, hauling her reluctant body to its feet. She forced herself to calm down, biting back a rising euphoria. She had believed the day won before. Nothing could be taking for granted.

"I'm fine, Pilot," she said, brushing her hair out of her face. She turned to face him. 

He was watching her with those deep orange eyes, purple feature filled with a mixture of gratitude and relief.

"Thank you," he said with a slight smile. "You saved my life, Aeryn."

"And you saved mine." Aeryn leaned on the console, reaching out to place a hand on one of his claws. "Thank _you_!" She smiled broadly. "I always said we worked 

together well."

His smile spread, responding to the light in her face. Suddenly, he jerked to attention, arms skimming over his controls as his consoles burst to life.

"I have control back!" he exclaimed. He tapped quickly at the panels. "I am dispatching my DRDs to assist the others!"

Aeryn realised what had happened – the control device had been smashed by the fall. She paused thoughtfully, counting quietly to herself the length of time between her tripping the Rani and his impacting the bottom. She raised an eyebrow. It really was quite some way down. She thought about her own close call with that pit and shivered.

"The Rani are falling back," Pilot reported, breaking her reverie. "Their ship is powering to leave."

This time she couldn't keep down the euphoria. It bubbled to the surface in her smile. Pilot was safe, the Rani in retreat. All she had to do was reach the planet!

But she forced herself to be calm again. Thinking like that was asking for trouble. She would do best going to see what was happening for herself.

"I'd better go help." Aeryn reached for her pulse pistol before belatedly remembering its fate. Absently, she wondered why the Rani hadn't used the device against their weapons before. But then she remembered the destruction of the DRDs. The device was indiscriminate. Most likely it would have destroyed the Rani needle guns as well.

She started onto the walkway. "You'll be all right?" she called back.

"Of course," he replied confidently. "I have my DRDs back now." He paused. "And I know you'll always come if I need you."

She hesitated and smiled back at him, thinking even as she did so that he didn't know how true that was.

"Set course for the commerce planet, maximum speed," she ordered quickly. "And prime my Prowler. I have a task to complete."

He looked perplexed, but she had not expected any different. Smiling in satisfaction, she turned and strode from the room.

********************************

The moment she entered the maintenance bay, Aeryn knew something was wrong. An unnatural silence hung in the air, so loud as to be deafening. Rani bodies lay scattered around by the bay itself was surprisingly in order; her prompt actions had prevented the destruction of previous timelines. The Rani were gone, chased off the ship, their murderous mission a failure, but yet a strange pall hung over the atmosphere, a reek of death and failure. Aeryn slowed as she entered the bay, her euphoria dropping like a stone. What was wrong?

Chiana and D'Argo were standing nearby; they regarded her with apprehension. But there was more to their expression too; a fearful sorrow shrouded them. She met D'Argo's gaze, a question in her eyes, but he looked away. Chiana wouldn't even look at her. Even Rygel, who had apparently only just emerged from hiding, looked downcast. He regarded her warily and shot a glance across the room.

She followed his eyes and found Zhaan. The Delvian was crouched near the hanger door, her features filled with deep concern. She glanced up and saw Aeryn. Their eyes connected, the priestess passing to her both sorrow and sympathy. The peacekeeper, already concerned felt a cold fear well up inside. Sudden apprehension gripped her heart. Where was John?

Then she saw him.

He was lying on the floor beside Zhaan. His face was a deathly pale mask, his eyes closed. His jacket was riddled with needles. Blood trickled down the ivory skin of his arm.

_ _

_Oh frell, no!_

She rushed to her side, barely able to breathe. "What happened?" she demanded. He wasn't moving. She could see no movement in his chest.

"Is he dead?"

Zhaan shook her head. "Not yet. He was lucky."

Aeryn stared at the Delvian in disbelief. "You call this lucky?"

"Compared to the alternative, yes! The needles never pierced the leather but one scratched the skin of his arm. The dose was not quite enough to be instantly fatal."

Aeryn's world was reeling. How could this be happening? She felt sick, dizzy, as the shocking implications of this development hit home. She found herself facing a terrible choice.

Who would she let live? 

Pilot or John?

In her hands, she held the lives of the two people she cared most about. What should she do? Confirm the timeline and risk losing John or let it collapse and sacrifice Pilot?

She took several deep breaths, the ice in her soul threatening to drag her down. She forced herself to try and calm down. All was not lost yet; John was still alive. Quickly, she turned to Zhaan.

"Will he survive? Can you save him?"

The Delvian frowned. "I can't be certain. Luckily my medicines weren't damaged in the attack and the commerce planet is near at hand. I can cleanse the wound. But then it is down to him. Whether he lives or dies will depend on his strength." She sighed and met Aeryn's anxious gaze."Only time will tell."

The irony of that statement was not lost on Aeryn. But she strove to push back the panic rising in her mind. She still had most of the day before she had to make a choice. John was strong. He would come round before then.

Or so she hoped.

Because she had no idea what to do if he didn't.

With D'Argo's help, John was laid gently on the bench by the apothecary, covered by a golden blanket as he fought with the poison that sought to steal away his life and Aeryn's world. She stayed by his side, holding his hand as he had held hers, a day – or a timeline – before. She watched him sleep, drinking in his strong features, desperately trying to decide what the frell she was going to do if he didn't come round. One thing she was certain of; if this day did not end with all her friends healthy around her, she intended to make it her life's mission to wipe out every Rani in the galaxy. The thought of losing John made her spirit quail; but hadn't she lost him anyway? If time reverted to its old order, she would never be able to see him again. 

But he'd be alive.

And Pilot wouldn't.

Silently she screamed in frustration. Why did this have to happen now, when she could do nothing about it? How could she possibly play God with the lives of her two best friends?

She slept for a while, knowing she must. Zhaan dropped by frequently, checking his vital signs, changing his bandage, but she said nothing, the silence lingering like a pall. The others did not appear at all. Pilot spoke to her once, his image flickering in the clamshell and heightening her anxiety as he inquired after Crichton's condition. His concern for her was touching; he made certain she was all right, offered himself to listen if she needed to talk and left her a DRD for company. All in all, it only made her dilemma worse.

Time slid by with worrying speed. At her request, Pilot provided regular updates on their proximity to Jaul's planet and she kept a careful mental countdown of my time she had left. The more time passed, the further she got from any kind of choice. She felt despair. What the frell was she going to do? She was getting perilously close to her self-designated cut off point and she still hadn't the faintest idea whether she was going to stay or go. The amulet glimmered on her arm, mocking her. With a sigh of frustration, she laid her head down against John's chest and closed her eyes.

"Aeryn?"

She jerked upright all at once, swinging to face John. His blue eyes blinked and then opened groggily. He smiled weakly.

"Looking good, babe!" he said hoarsely. "How's life at the OK Corral?"

"John!" she exclaimed joyfully. Zhaan, who had just entered, came rushing over. She smiled down at the woozy human as she checked him over efficiently.

"I think the worst has passed," she told them both with a smile.

Aeryn felt her heart leap. Maybe it would be all right after all!

"He'll live now?" she asked quickly.

"Course I'll live!" he retorted. "You don't get rid of me that easy!"

She bit back a grin but ignored him in favour of a more professional opinion.

"Zhaan?"

The Delvian nodded. "He'll be fine."

That was all she needed to hear.

"Pilot, is my Prowler ready?"

"Ready and waiting, Officer Sun."

"Thank you!"

She vaulted from her seat, leaned quickly over and kissed John on the forehead. Ignoring his amazement, she turned and rushed across to where her dark Prowler was waiting. The Human and the Delvian stared after her in confusion.

"Where are you going?" Zhaan called out, her voice uncomprehending.

Aeryn was already in the cockpit. "The planet!" she answered briskly.

"Why?"

The peacekeeper graced them with an enigmatic smile.

"To make this real!"

The Prowlers engines fired. In moments, she had plunged out into space.

******************************

The plaza was as bustling as it always was and her arrival caused a similar stir. The jet Prowler touched down almost delicately, alighting in a sea of silver faces that stared at her as one. The priesthood milled about, uncertain what to make of this invasion but they staggered back as the hatch blew and a dark figure bolted from within and leapt to the ground, her eyes fixed on the timekeeping device atop the temple of the Order of Temparis.

She didn't have much time.

Aeryn set out at a sprint across the vast stone square, declaring her feelings on the architect who surrounded the temple with trees that hindered her landing closer in less than flattering tones. She pushed her way roughly through the crowd of indignant priests, ignoring their cries of protest, consumed by issues much more pressing. The temple steps opened out before her; she bolted up them three at a time. At the head of the steps she spotted Jaul. There was no recognition in his face but his eyes fixed upon the amulet on her wrist and all at once he was clearing a path for her, ordering people aside. She shot him a brief look of gratitude as she hurtled passed and caught of glimpse of his replying smile. But then he was lost behind her as she rushed though the door and down into the halls, the tiles pounding beneath her feet as she sprinted for the altar. Silver streaks teased the corners of her eyes; she could feel the beginnings of disintegration. She doubled her pace, frantic, boosted by a surge of adrenalin that raced through her veins, erasing her tiredness and pain with a single burst of raw energy. She vaulted the altar with a distinct lack of respect as the silver streaks increased, became more pronounced, her vision wobbling as the air started to dissolve. She knew her time was almost gone but she didn't care.

She would not fail, not now not this close! She would not fail!

In a last burst of energy, she ripped the curtain aside, stumbling into the room. The timestream glittered before her, a tantalising enticement to a better life and she flung herself for it, slapping her hand against the red jewel as silver rose around her. The crystal dissolved with agonising slowness; she could feel the world collapsing. 

In her last desperate wisp of time, she thrust her amuleted arm into the timestream.

Silver overwhelmed her vision – for a moment she was lost, floating in that silver ethereal netherworld of raw time. She didn't know if she'd succeeded or not – she couldn't see Jaul, couldn't see anything. Her memory seemed to take fire, racing again through the events of the last day in a loop that seemed somehow never-ending. For a terrifying instant, she thought she would be trapped forever.

But then the silver dissolved, spun away – there was a flash and a strange rush. She felt the pressure of the amulet on her arm release and she was thrust back, stumbling, blinded and exhausted into the real world.

But which real world?

Strong arms caught her. Her vision was still hazy, filled with sparkly dots but beyond them she could see Jaul smiling down at her. The loosened amulet fell from her wrist, tumbling to the ground with a clatter. She felt light-headed and very tired but her mind was still spinning in a haze of activity, one question repeating over and over in her mind.

Which timeline was this?

She rose slowly, supported by Jaul. Her whole body felt as though it had been squeezed through a wringer. She managed to keep her footing although only just; three days worth of spent energy had finally caught up with her system. Slowly, tentatively, she turned to face Jaul, searching his face, desperate for what she would find there but at the same time fearing it.

His face was joyous. There was no recognition.

Hope welled up inside of her.

"Congratulations," Jaul said softly, sincerely. "Your new past is secured."

She felt as though she was floating, as though every weight that had ever been had lifted from her shoulders. She could barely believe it was true. Not long ago, in a world that no longer existed, she had felt as though her life had ended. Now she felt as though it had begun anew. He would never forget the horrors of the last few days but at least she could truly put them behind her.

"Thank you, Jaul," she said sincerely. "You'll never know just how much you've done for me. I shall be forever in your debt."

He smiled. "This is always a strange moment," he commented. "I only feel I know those who fail. Those who succeed are a mystery to me and yet I still feel joy for them."

"And so you should," Aeryn placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have a wonderful gift to give. I am honoured you considered it worthy of me."

Smiling, she turned to leave, but Jaul called out to her.

"Wait!"

She turned to find him holding out the amulet. 

"This is yours to keep," he told her. "It will replay for you're the memories of your altered past. We give it to our successful travellers as a reminder; to be sure they never forget how precious their time is and to use it wisely."

She took the amulet from his outstretched hands.

"I'll remember that," she said.

***************************

Life aboard Moya soon returned to normal. John was up and about in a few solar days, as healthy and cheerful as ever. They took on plenty of supplies at Jaul's planet – enough even to satisfy Rygel – and left it two days later, departing from Rani territory not long after. They were not attacked again.

Aeryn's mysterious foreknowledge of the invasion and her mysterious disappearance afterwards had led to her being subjected to a deluge of questions on her return. She brushed most of them off, attributing her early alarm to intuition, and her later departure to a sudden desire for fresh air. No one really believed her but once it became clear that she had no intention of giving them an honest answer, they gave up asking and the incident was slowly forgotten.

She was careful to hide the amulet. Chiana had shown a distinct interest in it on her return from the planet and knowing the Nebari thief's penchant for acquiring things that were not strictly speaking hers, she had Pilot store it away on a distant tier where Chiana was unlikely to get her hands on it. Pilot asked no questions, much to her relief. He accepted what she said and left it at that.

It was on a quiet morning about a weeken later that Aeryn unexpectedly found herself outside Pilot's chamber. She had been wandering at random, eager to escape the attentions of the others and had been musing on her strange experience without paying too much attention to her surroundings. When she looked up, she was therefore surprised to discover herself at the door to the Den. She hesitated a moment – for reasons she couldn't explain even to herself, she had been avoiding coming down here- but then something ran through her mind, a word Jaul had used.

Closure.

She hit the lock. 

Pilot looked up and smiled shyly as she entered.

"Officer Sun," he greeted. "What brings you here?"

"I'm not sure," Aeryn answered honestly as she pulled herself up beside him. It felt a little strange. Her mind kept skipping back to that awful instant, the pain in his eyes, the plea, the pulling of the trigger. She forced herself to remember that as far as everyone else was concerned, those events had never happened. Things were better that way.

She looked at him, healthy, content and suddenly knew why she had come.

"I just wanted to see you," she said.

He smiled again. "I'm flattered."

She laughed and pushed his arm.

"Don't be silly!" she told him.

He looked at her intently. "I wasn't."

There was a pause. Aeryn reached forward and placed a hand against his carapace.

"Thank you," she said.

"I should be thanking you," he replied. "You made a promise and you kept it. I am very grateful for that."

She felt strangely touched. She thought back through all the trouble, through the horror and distress and realised just how much her friendship with this strange creature meant to her. He had been the first person she'd really been able to talk to, the only one apart from Crichton during those early day who didn't judge her on her peacekeeper past. She had a life here now on Moya and friends, good friends, who relied upon her as much as she relied upon them. For the first time in her life, she had a home.

Pilot was watching her. "I really did not think you would be able to keep that promise, you know," he commented. "It cannot have been easy for you."

Aeryn met her friend's eyes, smiling ruefully.

"You have no idea," she said.

THE END.

   [1]: mailto:jesspallas@hotmail.com



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